More Than Friends
by Sekana Katayama
Summary: The continued story of Felfe, a very effeminate male nightelf. More humor, more romance, and more fun!
1. Chapter 1

Yo, this is Sekana Katayama with yet another yaoi/slash WoW story. This is the third story in the series so far, so here's how it works.

_1) Why Can't We Be Friends?_

_2) Just Friends_

_3) More Than Friends_

So if you're interested in this story, please go alllllll the way back to the first story and work your way up from there. I promise it's all good stuff. Really.

**Reviewers: **Sorry this took so long! Had to 'let the Sunwell refill' as they say.

**Disclaimer: **It's safe to say that I _do not _own Warcraft. But I do own my 'creations.' Meaning, Felfe, Kain, Guanji, Lance, Yuren, Temarr, Alyane, Silya, etc.

I don't care about Maren, though – you can take her.

* * *

**More Than Friends**

**Chapter One**

Felfe stretched, his aching muscles protesting greatly. He felt tired, and yet completely satisfied with the events of yesterday. He gave a small yawn, and managed to drag himself from the inn bed to the hairbrush, wincing as it hit several tangles. He really had been tired yesterday.

After Kain had asked him that crucial question, he had agreed wholeheartedly, though to be truthful the idea still caused him some dread. Muffins. But nevertheless, he had been quite happy as they walked back from the ice-cream parlor, though Kain didn't even try anything beyond a light goodbye kiss when he dropped him off.

After all that, Felfe was feeling quite lightheaded and very energized, so he took out his quest log and – wonder of wonders – actually set off to get something done. And better yet, his luck seemed to have improved, since all yesterday he had gotten good pulls and never had to take on more than one enemy.

He had gotten a lot done yesterday, and he could just feel his experience building up. In fact, he suspected he had reached a whole new level of possibilities, in a way.

Finished with his hair at last, Felfe washed his face using the small bucket on the table, and examined his blurred reflection on the surface of the water. He looked happy. Very happy.

'_If you had listened to me from the start, you could have been happy weeks ago.' _His mind said in exasperation.

Felfe frowned, but the troubled expression couldn't remain on his face for long, not while he was in such a good mood. _'Well, everything worked out well this way, and I wouldn't go back and change it even if I could.'_

'_Boring, as always.' _Mind said, with an air of annoyance. _'But you could if you wanted.'_

'_What, go back?' _Felfe asked, pausing in his stride to the door. _'Really?'_

'_Like always,' _His mind sighed. _'You're so gullible. Of course you can't. I don't even know where you'd begin trying to do something like that.'_

'_Oh.' _Felfe said, a twinge of disappointment causing him to shake his head. He was being silly. He wouldn't want to go back for anything. It was a really stupid idea. After all, everything was all right now, wasn't it?

'_You wanted to?' _Mind asked, astonished, picking up on the slight hesitation in Felfe.

'_No!' _Felfe countered, and refused to say more on the subject.

* * *

Southshore was still warm today, but nothing like yesterday. There were more people outside, purchasing reagents and perusing their maps. No doubt they were questing, much like Felfe intended to do. Except that he kinda wanted to save his strength for his training session, which was around lunchtime again.

He was reminded that they probably wouldn't eat until after practice, which made him reconsider the idea of having breakfast. He usually didn't, due to the exorbitant prices of the inn menu, but perhaps today it would be okay to splurge a little. If he had any money, that is.

Felfe mournfully reached into one of his bags and felt a small pile of coins. Good, he had enough for a large meal and then some. Breathing out a sigh of relief, he turned and went back into the inn's main room.

It was still warm inside, but at least there wasn't the sun beating down on him. He strode over to the wooden bar, and took a seat on a stool. The bartender, whose name was Kelly, eyed him curiously, wondering why now, finally, the young elf had decided to get something.

"I'll just have… uh… a small egg omelet, please." Felfe said, digging out some silver from his pouch.

Kelly nodded, taking the money and tucking it into a wooden chest near the back of the closed-off area. "Comin' right up."

Felfe nodded absently, brushing his hair away from his face.

"Jessen, we need a small egg omelet!" Kelly shouted, causing Felfe to jump.

"Sure thing!" Jessen yelled back, breaking out the small eggs and a frying pan. The fire blazed merrily in the alcove as the chef worked. It only took a few minutes of cooking for the eggs to reach their desired consistency.

"Ding! All done!" Jessen proclaimed, tossing the omelet onto a waiting plate. He delivered the plate to Kelly, who in turn gave it to Felfe.

"Gratz." Kelly said approvingly, and then went back to polishing the extra glasses. Because that's what bartenders do.

Felfe blinked, but dismissed the odd exchange. It wasn't like he had any right to call other people weird. Most people would think that his relationship with Kain was odd. Some might even go so far to say 'wrong'. Now that he thought about it, that might cause some problems…

Well, it surely wouldn't cause any in Silvermoon, since the place was already overflowing with couples of the same gender (and not all of them male, either). But elsewhere, especially the alliance towns, it could be a bad idea to openly display such a… a… scene?

Not that Felfe intended anything like that, but Kain probably hadn't thought about people's reactions yet, so perhaps he ought to tell him. But that might be bold of him to say that, and Kain might be disappointed or something, so-

"Felfe!" A rather pompous voice said.

Felfe turned around on the stool. "Lance? What are you doing here?"

Lancelot, armored as usual, took a seat beside Felfe at the bar and sighed. "I've been looking for you."

"Why?" Felfe asked.

Lancelot motioned the bartender over. "Flagon of mead, please."

Felfe remained puzzled, but he figured Lance wanted to talk to him about something. He immediately assumed all sorts of horrible things had happened, and a growing coldness in his stomach unsettled him. "Is something wrong?"

"Not really." Lance frowned. Kelly handed him the mead, and he gratefully took a large gulp. "Well, perhaps."

Felfe's mind raced to the most probable cause. "Yuren?"

Lance's gaze shifted to him for a moment before returning to the mead. He nodded.

"Did something happen?" Felfe asked carefully. He took a slow bite of the omelet.

"Mmm hmm." Lance replied, burying his troubles in the mead.

Felfe, figuring that the amount of mead Lance was consuming would loosen his tongue invariably, decided to take matters into his own hands. "So what happened?"

Lance glanced up. "He kissed me. Yesterday."

Felfe attempted to picture this and failed miserably. "Really?"

"Mmm hmm." Lance took another large gulp from the mug. "Very strange. Can't fathom why he did it. And then I said something about liking him and he leapt to conclusions."

"Well yeah, I can see how that would… wait, what?" Felfe's eyes widened. "You… you like him?"

"No! I mean, yes. I mean… _I don't know!_" Lance slammed the mug onto the counter with the last words, fuming. "I have no idea how I got into this mess!"

"Hey, it's okay." Felfe comforted. "I made a pretty big mess of a relationship with Kain, and it turned out all right."

Lance said nothing for a moment, but then registered the meaning behind the words, and saw the smile Felfe was trying to hide. He put two and two together, and got 'four', which didn't help him in the least. But he also realized something. "You… you're… you're with Kain now?"

Felfe more-or-less calmly wiped his face with his napkin, trying to cover up the blush that threatened to give him away. "W-well…"

"That's wonderful." Lance said, with a mix of joy and disgust on his face. More joy than disgust, though, since he liked Felfe more than he disliked Kain. But not that way, obviously. "How was it?"

"Huh?" Felfe asked, taking another bite of omelet. "Hah uz utt?"

Lance correctly interpreted this to mean 'How was what?' and looked positively confuzzled. Konfused. Wuzzled. Whatever. "You did do it, didn't you?"

Felfe frowned, setting the fork down to stare at Lance, as if doing so would clarify the sentence. "Did what?"

"You didn't?" Lance blinked, and then went back to his mead. "That must be disappointing."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Felfe muttered, finishing his omelet at last.

"If you're with Kain now, I assumed that meant you had already done it." Lance mumbled back, adding a sigh at the end.

"Oh, you mean _that_?" Felfe said, finally understanding. The idea brought a slight blush, but after so much practice with his mind throwing images at him, it wasn't difficult to dispel. "N-not yet, of course."

Lance shook his head. "Don't let him hear you say that."

"Why not?" Felfe asked, sliding the empty plate over to the bartender.

"He'll think you don't want that, obviously." Lance explained. "But why bother explaining all that? I have all the real good stuff in my book."

"Your book? What book?" Felfe glanced around, and saw – surprise! – no book.

"Oh, well," Lance said, "Before I started my paper on the undead lifestyle, I had an ongoing analysis on my rival."

When Felfe gave him a confused look, he clarified. "_Kain_."

"Oh." Felfe said, nodding.

"So I know a lot of, how do I put it… information… about him." Lance said, sounding a bit proud of his work. "I have everything in there – all you need to know."

"That sounds useful." Felfe said curiously. "Where is it?"

"Oh, I have it right here." Lance said, and pulled a small, leather-bound book from somewhere on his person. "Here."

He handed Felfe the book, and returned to his mead blankly.

"I'll read it later." Felfe proclaimed, and then remembered that he hadn't even helped Lance with _his _problems. "Oh, right, where were we…?"

"Hmm?" Lance asked, setting the empty mug down and beckoning Kelly over to refill it.

"About Yuren," Felfe said, "Have you talked to him since then?"

"No, I left right after that." Lance sighed heavily.

"Well, maybe you should just talk it over." Felfe shrugged. It was an odd gesture for him.

Lance paused thoughtfully, and then buried his face in the newly-filled mug. He took a deep draught before pulling back from it. "I suppose that's… good idea. 'Ey, bartender, another flagon."

Felfe nodded, satisfied, and then took his leave. "Make sure you _do _talk to him, okay?"

Lancelot muttered something in return, but his mug muffled the sounds too much for it to be comprehensible.

* * *

Felfe practically bounced upstairs, strangely curious as to the contents of the small book. It didn't look like much, but if Lance was telling the truth, it was well worth its weight in gold. Although, it probably didn't weigh that much, so that would be around ten gold. Of course, to Felfe that was a huge sum, so perhaps it was valuable after all.

He closed the door behind him, coming to sit on his bed with a yawn. It was still too early to be going out, anyhow. He had time to read this thing for a while before heading out. In fact, if he really wanted to he could read up until lunch time, since that was when Kain would be arriving for their second training session.

Brushing off a few comments from his mind, Felfe opened the book and started at page one. He made sure to read it word-for-word, as all this was very important information. And he wanted to know as much about Kain as possible, since… well… since it was about Kain.

* * *

_Analysis on Kain of the Horde_

**September 8**

**Race: **Blood-elf**  
Gender: **Male

**Class: **Paladin**  
Level: **56

**Spec: **Holy, though he fights like a Retribution

**Appearance: **Pale-skinned, elvish features, green eyes, long black hair

I figured that it would be necessary to start writing down my interactions with him eventually, since it appears that we are destined to be great rivals. He defies all I believe in, makes a mockery of all that is holy, and – worse! – he always seems to be wearing the same armor that I am. No member of the Light-forsaken horde should be able to call themselves 'paladin'! He thinks that being a paladin is about 'harnessing the Light' and 'using the Light-given abilities to one's benefit' but he hardly knows what he speaks of!

My apologies, I should not be veering off course so soon. But it is clear that he is not only deserving of punishment, but also a defined enemy in my eyes. And that is why I have started this book, to organize my strategies and also to analyze his weaknesses.

I should start with a short overview, to encompass much of the information I have collected over the few months I have fought with him already. To be brief, I first saw him in Un'Goro Crater, where I was collecting crystals for a rather irritating quest. I saw a flash of red, and hastened over to the jewel only to find that he had just taken it. He straightened up and saw me, and an odd look came over his face before he scowled at me.

I, of course, scowled back and hefted my sword, intent on dueling him for the sake of my compromised dignity. But he just smirked in that unexplainably annoying blood-elf fashion and ran off before I could do anything. Blasted coward!

Well, regardless, the next time I saw him was in Azshara. I was galloping across the land on my brave steed when I spotted him again. He was near the Thalassian Base Camp, standing there as if with no idea why he was even there. I, of course, was filled with desire for revenge, so I dismounted and stalked up to him, every inch the perfect paladin!

But I digress, talking of oneself so highly is not a virtue. To continue my brief story, he heard me coming and turned around, and smirked at me again. I disliked this greatly, so I challenged him to a duel. He refused, and I was extremely offended at his rudeness. I had nothing to say, so I stood there a while longer while he continued to do nothing. After a long time I followed his gaze to the patrolling Blood-elf Surveyors.

I noticed that they looked much like him, if his eyes had been blue. I asked him what he was doing, and he said he was on a quest to kill them. He looked very troubled about this. I scoffed at his lack of professionalism, and he gave me a scalding look. And then he told me something that I can still remember, though it was months ago.

"They are not so different from me. Why is it that I have the right to kill them?" He said.

I was indeed startled by this idea, and surprisingly his words actually made sense. If I had been a lesser man, I might have been moved by his idealism, but as it was I just huffed and returned to my horse. I told him that that was how things went in the world, but I truly didn't believe it to be so.

I found him in various places after that, always exchanging cold words and empty threats until one day in Winterspring, not too long ago. It was exceedingly cold out, but as always I ignored the weather and proceeded to do business. By the time I returned to town I was in a horrible temper and half frozen. I came to the gates at the same time as another fellow, and we gave each other awkward glances as we slowed. I briefly wondered if I should let him pass in front of me, but then realized that it was him again, the same man as all those times before.

Needless to say, I was quite ready to get my revenge this time, so I challenged him then and there. He refused, but I didn't relent. I cast my Hammer of Justice on him, purely out of spite, and the blasted Everlook bruisers came down upon me like ogres, clubbing me half to death before throwing me out of the place.

That day, as I lay bleeding and aching in the snow, hair frozen to my scalp, I knew that he and I were rivals. I was determined to have my revenge, not just for this one humiliation, but also for the life that he had committed to tainting the Light. A strong claim, of course, but I am sure it is truth.

It has only been weeks since then, but already I have met him once again. At last he conceded to a duel, but he cast a Divine Protection on himself, not letting me even get a hit in, and he hearthed, no doubt to some safe haven. Blasted coward.

I shall have my revenge!

**September 14**

I have met him again, and though I managed to catch him unawares in contested territory, he still managed to flee from me. I cannot believe his cowardice! I almost thought, this time, that he was going to stay and fight, but he did not. If he keeps making a fool of me like this, I'm quite sure I shall go mad.

Not to mention that Light-forsaken smirk of his.

**September 27**

I have had two meetings with my rival, whose name I shall not speak again. That would be giving him too much credit. But I digress.

The first meeting was purely by accident, in Deadwind Pass. The bleakness of the land was unsettling, and that was how I did not at first notice his approach. But by the time he was in range I had identified him. Angry, I once again challenged him to a duel. He stayed this time, and we fought for what seemed years.

Eventually, to my eternal humiliation, we ran out of mana simultaneously. Nothing remained except to whack at him with my sword, so I did so. We sparred like this, fully without magic, for at least a minute before falling back into the regular method of dueling when our mana had regenerated.

I do not know how long the duel went on, but I recall noticing the light change several times, so it is possible that we fought into the darkness of night and into a new day. After that I recall him asking me if I was going to surrender, to which I heartily refused. So we battled yet longer, until neither of us could lift a finger.

When we both collapsed onto the grey ground, plagued by fatigue, I heard him mutter that the match wasn't finished, and we would be continuing it a week from the day, in the Eastern Plaguelands. I weakly mumbled an agreement, and I cannot remember much of what happened later that day, due to my need for sleep and food.

A week from then came our next battle, which was, perhaps thankfully, not as long. Although there was a reason for its shortness, of which I dislike speaking and therefore will say straight out and never mention again. A short while into the battle I managed to knock away his shield and dove for his throat. By sheer luck, he dodged and my sword became firmly wedged in the tree beside him, causing me to panic and assess my options.

Without much thought I tackled him to the ground, deciding on a rather rough and vulgar form of fighting. That was when everything went terribly wrong. You see? I'm prolonging the telling because it unnerves me so. Yet I know I must say it eventually, so what am I waiting on?

All right, to make things short, after we tussled on the ground for a good few minutes (of which I mainly had the upper hand, I might add) I happened to draw quite close to his face, due to the roughness of the fight, and I noticed he was very red. Thinking this odd, I was distracted long enough from him to get a good grip on me. I ended up biting one of his hands in a semi-damaging way – not enough to do real damage, since I wasn't comfortable with taking a chunk out of him like that – and he, well, shall I say... Well, anyway, he let out this odd noise between choking and squeaking and gave me an extremely odd look.

Then I noticed his flushed face, and the way he was watching me with confused yet curious eyes. And then I promptly fled the battle, to my lasting disgust. But I couldn't bear the realization that my rival had quite possibly been enjoying that tussle on the leafy ground, judging by his blushing face. And that meant that he preferred men, which put me in a very awkward place.

I simply won't stand for the idea! After all, we _are_ both paladins, and I, at the least, am a man of honor! I can't let him think of me that way, and I certainly did not relish the thought of another such battle.

I think I shall lay low for a while, despite the humiliation of doing such a thing.

**October 19**

Yes, I have been keeping away as much as possible, but I still had various encounters with him. Now that we are both of the level sixty, the highest of ranks, I can't help but see him in daily conquests, such as Alterac Valley and the Eastern Plaguelands.

I've met him more times than I'd care to elaborate on, so I shall just say, briefly, that we have battled many times, all of which have ended as ties. We have the same armor again, to my annoyance. But not once has he brought up the occurrences of last September, for which I am (I must admit) grateful. In fact, he seems much more serious than when I first met him, almost as if something has been influencing him lately. I know not what that could be, but I appreciate the solemness with which he greets and duels me, and I prefer it to the way he used to smirk.

**October 25**

I have heard from a long trail of gossip that my rival (who I shall not name) is connected with the prince of the blood-elves, Kael'thas Sunstrider. This is rather interesting, since the prince has never taken a lover before, and has not shown signs of wanting one. To the contrary, I've heard he courted Jaina Proudmoore unsuccessfully, and was dejected about it ever since.

Perhaps this has to do with K- my rival's aloofness?

Regardless, I fought him again today. I was shocked to see that he had gotten much more powerful. In fact, I would have lost in a normal duel, and I was only saved by one of my team members in Alterac Valley. I'm not sure how he gained such speed and strength so quickly, but I wish I knew the answer. I would certainly not mind such an improvement to my own abilities.

**November 27**

Much has happened, but I do not have a lot of time to recount it now. I have been made the commander of the alliance army, and guild master of the highest-ranked guild there is. Though I will be kept busy, I have no doubts that the post is worth it. Not much news of my rival besides the fact that he – to my chagrin – has been appointed commander of the horde army, starting on the same day as myself. I suppose he mentioned something to Kael'thas about it. I am beginning to hate that prince.

I shall write more later.

**January 13**

The days have flown by quickly. With every battle, Kain grows steadily stronger and I struggle to improve myself enough to still tie him. Recently, to my luck, our armies have been battling more often, leaving the two of us no time for personal duels. That is very satisfying, since our troops are evenly matched and I win the battles as often as he does.

Today I noticed that my rival looked deeply disturbed. I wondered what it might be about, but I don't really fancy knowing. Most likely it's something of a personal nature, and his time of weakness will be my triumph.

**January 15**

I have found out that he has been forsaken by his short-term lover, the prince, and is now in a state of prolonged shock. Lucky for me, not-so-lucky for him. I almost feel pity for him, with such a loss, but I remember the many battles we've had, and I know he would not pity me if I were in the same situation.

Yet I have more disturbing news. The Dark Portal has reopened, and the Burning Legion is once again a part of the picture. Illidan resides in Outland, the planet beyond the Portal, and with him is his cohort, Prince Kael'thas. A nasty shock for my rival, I have no doubt. Or perhaps he knew before anyone else.

Regardless, these are dark times once again, and there will be much warring soon. I shall not write for a while, I fear.

**February 18**

Horde and Alliance share an uneasy semi-truce in Outland, varying from outright hostility to sometimes virtually peaceful. Some places are worse than others, naturally, but Shattrath City is a popular location for both factions to come and go, and I see Kain there often when I am passing by.

He looks very serious, like someone carved his face out of stone. I admire his fortitude and objectiveness, as these are good traits for a commander, but I can certainly tell that there are unresolved ends still in him, like deeply embedded arrows broken off at the shaft and left inside the body.

But of course I feel no compassion for an enemy. May the Light strike him down where he stands. It might do him a favor, what with all that's happened to him.

**April 30**

Much has happened, but now it seems everything is more-or-less under control. The army raids Tempest Keep occasionally, but Kael'thas just doesn't die easily. We kill him one time, and he's back there when we revisit it. Odd, that.

Well, interesting things have happened lately. I had heard from a connection of mine in the horde – yes, I actually made an acquaintance from the horde, but he's really quite pleasant – that Kain had been eyeing a new relationship lately. Interesting. Especially since the person in question is a male night-elf. A very feminine male night-elf. Perhaps Kain needs someone to help him pick up the pieces?

That was a rather lame statement. I apologize. Nevertheless, I'm curious to see what will happen next.

**May 7, 8, 9**

Yes, I've been working hard lately, making strategies for the army's upcoming battles. We're going to battle at Southshore, amazingly. No idea why. Kain's idea. Sorry, didn't mean to say his name. I'm rather tired. I'm rather tired. Oh, I wrote that already. Anyway.

Anyway, today (whenever today is) was exceedingly long. I had a battle with Kain's army (well not really) but it never really started because Felfe and Guanji (Felfe is the male night-elf and Guanji is my horde friend) interrupted and Kain wanted to talk to Felfe. Sorry, my rival, I mean.

Anyhow, I went along to spy. I mean, why not? So I heard a lot of interesting stuff. Too bad I can't remember. Point being, I gave myself away and stood up from the bush after shouting encouraging things to Felfe, so I made a complete fool of myself. How fantastic. I'm too tired to be writing. I'll drop the pen soon. Okay, I'm going to bed now.

**May 10**

All right, I'm not going to write in this anymore. Kain and I (yes, I'm going to say his name at last) have decided to declare a truce between us, for Felfe and Guanji's sake. So I cannot rattle on about his pagan doings any longer.

* * *

Felfe lay back on the bed, rubbing his forehead. So much information! He had never guessed that Lance and Kain had been rivals for so long, and certainly not for all sorts of stupid reasons like that fact that they were both paladins, or that Kain took the crystal first (although Felfe didn't recall much about that). But at least he knew a little more about Kain now.

Was Kain still upset about Kael? That would be really important to know. Maybe they ought to talk about it. But if he brought it up, that would probably just make Kain more miserable than usual. So maybe he shouldn't even talk about it.

He wondered suddenly what time it was, and looked out the window. It was probably approaching lunch time. He'd better get prepared. Not that he wasn't, of course.

Setting the book under his bed (he felt quite guilty about it for some reason), Felfe seized the training sword, and left both daggers in his room. He had all his equipment on, so he was good with that. Now all that was left was to wait outside for Kain.

"Greetings." Kain's voice.

"Kain!" Felfe squeaked, hopping off his bed and flushing. He could almost feel the book under his bed, as if it was glowing brightly.

Not only that, but now that he knew more about Kain's earlier life, and his rivalry with Lancelot, he almost felt embarrassed about his knowledge. Did he really have a right to know all that? He almost felt like he'd been trespassing in Kain's past…

Kain came into the room without invitation, smirking his low-degree smirk. Didn't the book say that Kain had stopped smirking? But he smirked all the time now…

He casually strode up to Felfe, folding his arms patiently. "Ready to go?"

Felfe nodded eagerly, relieved to exit the room where the book still burned red-hot in his mind.

* * *

'_Whoo… time to… go talk to mister Yuren. Yep.' _Lance thought absently, walking along the path to Undercity with a flagon of mead still in his hand. He stumbled, but shakily avoided falling on his face.

"Gotta be… hic… care'ful." He giggled, striding drunkenly up the road. "Oth'wise… mi' not getta shee… Yur'n."

He laughed at his own humor, smiling ridiculously. He was almost there, almost to Undercity. And then he'd find Yuren and talk to him. That would be good. He definitely needed to do that.

Although, he wasn't exactly sure why he was going to see Yuren, or what he was going to talk about. He largely suspected, however, that it had to do with the flagon of mead he was carrying.

"Makin' goo time…hic!" He swaggered through the stony gates, golden-blonde hair in slight disarray. His eyes glanced around wildly until they found a blurry, bony figure.

Lance immediately called out to the undead guy, and rushed towards him. Unfortunately, he tripped and fell on the ground before he got to him.

"Uh… who are you?" The undead guard asked.

"Hehe…you funny…" Lance giggled.

The guard raised an eyebrow, amused. Surprisingly, drunk people showed up at the gates pretty often. But they were never of the opposite faction, and they were most certainly never _human paladins._ The guard was contemplating having a little fun with the disoriented guy when his commanding officer walked up.

The commanding officer, namely Yuren, gave the fellow on the ground a long, calculating look. The guard tilted his head to the side, causing his neck to crack oddly.

"I'll take him." Yuren sighed, and went over to the completely smashed paladin.

"Huh?" The guard said, wondering what was going on. After all, the second-in-command of the horde army had just offered to take care of a drunken paladin. The heck?

"I said, 'I'll take him.'" Yuren hissed, undead eyes rolling. He bent down and lifted Lance to his feet, slinging the taller man's arm over his bony shoulder.

"Uh… okay…" The guard said, patting his mohawk to be sure he wasn't dreaming. Nope, it was still there. He sighed. It really sucked to un-die with a hairstyle like that. Honestly, if he had known he was going to un-die that day, he would have cut his hair in a much more reasonable fashion.

The guard looked up to see no drunk paladin, and no Yuren. He figured that whatever had just happened was either a figment of his imagination, or… a figment of his imagination. Yeah, that sounded good.

* * *

"And just what happened to you?" Yuren asked, observing Lance's drunken state with a sniff. "You're drunk."

"Nah…" Lance slurred, grinning like a fool. "Jus' tipshy!"

Yuren sighed heavily and opened the door to his small room, shoving Lance in before entering. He closed the door behind him and pondered his options. There wasn't much room in the… room… so it wasn't like he was going to just wait this out. After all, it would probably take a while for Lance to sober up.

Maybe it would help if he got some sleep. Lance, not Yuren. But there was only the small, wooden bed. Where was _Yuren _going to stay for those hours? He certainly wasn't going to leave Lance alone in _his _room at a time like this. But he didn't have anything to sit on besides the bed, unless the toilet counted. And he was _not _going to spend an indefinite amount of time sitting on the _toilet _while Lance slept in _his _bed.

Your average clichéd undead guy – or perhaps I'm thinking of blood-elves – would probably come to the conclusion that the two of them would just have to share the bed ("Oh, my! There's simply no way around it!") but Yuren had already thought of that. It simply wasn't an option. And that didn't leave a whole lot of options free.

He could take a really, really long shower, but that wouldn't do much. His skin wouldn't get any cleaner, his hair wouldn't get less greasy. Basically, it would be akin to dumping a bucket of water over himself – many times in the space of a few hours.

He sighed heavily, and eyed Lance suspiciously. Why had he even come to Undercity in the first place. "Lance, what are you even _doing_ here?"

Lance frowned thoughtfully, almost looking normal for a moment's time. "I… need'd to… shpeak to you… hic!"

"About what?" Yuren asked, leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the room from Lance, who had already taken the liberty of sitting on the bed.

"Tha's the… funny thhing… I don' remember." Lance grinned lopsidedly.

Yuren buried his face in his hands, suppressing a scream. He was going to be stuck with a complete idiot for the next few hours, all because of his inner goodness causing him to help this 'poor paladin'.

Yuren, of course, had no idea that the events of the day before had had such an effect on his companion. In fact, he had almost forgotten all about it. After all, he had only been trying to help in the most 'human' way possible, and human things weren't such a big deal to him. If they had been, he might have realized why Lance was drunk, and why he had wanted to talk.

* * *

Felfe sat down on the grass, watching curiously as Kain took the plain red-checked cover off of the picnic basket. He wondered vaguely what had happened to the rather fetching pink one, but was more interested in the food inside the basket.

"Sandwiches again." Kain said in an overly-casual way. "I made them this time."

"Oh, that's nice." Felfe said enthusiastically. "What kind?"

Kain paused before answering sheepishly, "Peanut butter and moonberry."

Felfe, not noticing Kain's hesitation, immediately smiled. "That's great!"

And then Kain gently took out a large cake from the basket. It was gorgeous. White cream covered every inch of it, and it was topped with six luscious, shiny red strawberries arrayed along its edge, with one large one stuck in the middle. It looked delicious.

"Wow, Kain, I didn't know you could cook!" Felfe gasped, examining the cake with wonder.

"I can't." Kain sighed. "I bought it."

"Oh." Felfe said. "Um… it's still nice." He paused before adding, "Why'd you bring a cake?"

"You don't like cake?" Kain asked, his expression changing to worry that he attempted to hide and failed.

"No, no! I mean, yes!" Felfe said quickly. "I mean no! I do like cake, really!"

Kain laughed at Felfe's flustered demeanor and his smirk came back, albeit not at full force. But he was learning to use full force only in dire situations, as it tended to have quite an effect on people. Except Lancelot, for a reason he had never discovered…

And Kael, too, but he squashed that thought before it could form fully.

Felfe eyed the cake longingly, and suddenly reached out with a slim finger to swipe a bit of cream off the cake. Without thinking, he raised his hand to his mouth, completely forgetting the possible rudeness of such an action.

Kain seized Felfe's arm as gently as possible, stopping the night-elf from getting to the sugar. Felfe looked up at him, startled, before blushing slightly, realizing what he had done.

"No eating before training." Kain scolded gently. Then he glanced at the icing on Felfe's finger, and wondered what to do. Normally he would have simply leaned forward and licked it off automatically, as blood-elves are generally inclined towards such actions, but… he had discovered that Felfe was very fragile, and often took little things to be much more important than they were.

So he awkwardly stared at the bit of frosting, and Felfe did the same, cheeks colored pink. Now, Kain was getting quite good at holding back his natural 'seduction' genes, but really this was a prime situation for it. If only Felfe was more outgoing, it would be so much easier-

But no, of course he wasn't asking for something like that. That was just stupid. This _was _Felfe after all.

"Um…" Felfe spoke up, after a few moments. "A little wouldn't hurt, right?"

Kain thought for a bit before replying, "I suppose not…"

Felfe and Kain both leaned forward at the same time, intent on getting just one small dose of sugar before their training. Halfway to the prized icing on Felfe's finger, they both stopped, staring hesitantly at each other.

"It's your finger, go ahead." Kain said, leaning back.

"No, it's okay, you bought the cake." Felfe said, blushing.

"It's still your finger." Kain insisted, but his eyes showed slight regret.

Felfe nodded slowly, and Kain released his arm. Felfe paused, and then drew the finger to his lips, quickly licking off the icing and savoring its sugary goodness. "Mmm."

Kain smirked, but he was clearing still a little disappointed. But Felfe knew how to remedy that (he thought).

"Training now?" Felfe asked simply, standing up and brushing off his leather armor.

Kain only nodded, standing and taking up his practice sword. Felfe unsheathed his awkwardly, still not quite used to them. Daggers were mostly what he'd practiced before. Although he wasn't that great with them, either.

"So… what are we doing?" Felfe asked timidly, afraid it would be another mock-battle like the last time. Last time it had been very tough, and he wasn't sure he wanted to get that sore again. His poor hands, even with gloves, had felt weak and painful for a while afterwards.

Most people, at this point in the game of life, would have simply concluded that they weren't cut out for the adventuring business. But of course Felfe only thought 'I'll get better' and continued to try as hard as he could.

Which was a good thing, since Kain intended to help Felfe improve as fast as possible, even if it meant some pain.

"We're going to work on your strength." Kain said, in measured tones. He had thought it all out before. His first assessment of Felfe's fighting ability hadn't been all that bad. I mean, even though the night-elf wasn't all that strong, at the very least he knew the basics of swordplay. His actual moves and dodges were fine, as they were natural for elves especially. It was just his technique and strategy that, to be frank, sucked. And of course there was the strength issue, what with his slender frame and lack of characteristic male night-elf muscles.

Kain tried not to picture Felfe with muscles like that, and cringed. Felfe apparently thought this was some sort of indication that he was a horrible trainee, and hung his head sadly.

"I'll try, I really will." He said quietly, fingering one of the blades nervously.

Kain countered instantly, "No, I wasn't… you're doing very well."

"Are you just saying that so I'll feel better?" Felfe asked cautiously.

"Of course not." Kain said, unsheathing his practice sword. "And you will get better."

Felfe smiled uneasily.

* * *

"Whoa!"

Yuren jumped to his feet, nerves frazzled. "What!?"

Lance had, apparently, woke up. And he probably would be demanding an explanation any moment now. Ridiculous humans! Not to mention, Yuren's butt, however bony, would never be quite the same after sitting on the floor for three hours. Three long, boring hours with only his mind to occupy him.

Actually, though, his mind was pretty good at that, having stored useful information and some not-so-useful information all of his life. There was a myriad of pictures and videos taken from various times, as well as an autobiography of his life. He had left the autobiography alone and opted for some of the better memories, played out in startling detail.

One of the scenes-

But alas, time stops for no one, and Lance was getting frantic. "What's going on? Where is this!?"

"Shut up!" Yuren hissed, groaning at his sore behind. And no, don't take that the wrong way.

Lance immediately 'shut up,' looking flabbergasted. "Huh?"

"Are you sober now?" Yuren asked impatiently, hands on his hips. "You _better_ be."

Lance frowned. "Of course. Paladins do not engage in the act of drink-"

"Pfft." Yuren interrupted rudely. "You were completely _wasted_. And why don't you have a hangover?"

"Cure disease…" Lance muttered sheepishly, losing his dignified appearance. "All right, you got me."

"Not so high-and-mighty _now_, huh?" Yuren sneered.

"Why are you so… so…" Lance sighed, losing his train of thought.

Yuren, thankfully, caught onto the sentence's implied meaning anyway. "You think I _like _sitting on the floor for _three hours_?"

Lance blinked. "I was out for three hours?"

"Roughly." Yuren said, back to being completely calm. "Anyway, what was it you said you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Talk to you?" Lance scratched his head. "I… I can't recall."

He looked positively puzzled. Which meant that he really didn't remember. What a drag.

Yuren sighed heavily. "Well, get going, then. I'd like my bed back."

"That's rather cold." Lance frowned, but got up from the bed nonetheless. He stood by it awkwardly, wondering what to say. After all, he had the nagging feeling that he came to Undercity for a good reason. Something he had to talk to Yuren about? But what could that be?

A few stray images floated through his mind, but he couldn't catch onto anything useful.

"Yes, well, _I'm _rather cold." Yuren scowled. He folded his arms, trying to ignore the way the cold air enveloped him. He hadn't noticed before, being in the same place for a while, but now he could certainly tell it was cold. Why was it cold? Oh, after the elevator incident a few noobs succeeded in accidentally breaking the air-flow system (they were blood-elves, and very interested in the mana that held the system up). And now the cold air was running rampant, going here and there almost with a will of its own. Stupid elementals… Stupid repair mages that hadn't shown up yet. Stupid… okay, okay, time to stop.

"You're cold?" Lance asked, surprised.

"Was that not what I _just said?_" Yuren snapped. He hated repeating himself, and he also hated stupid questions.

Lancelot didn't answer, crossing the room and heading for the doorway with a thoughtful look. Yuren suppressed a small smile at the thought that he would soon be free of annoyances.

But then Lance halted, right at the doorway, and turned to face Yuren, who was standing next to him. "About this… I'm really-"

"Yes, yes, you're sorry and all that, I know." Yuren rolled his eyes. "Just go."

Lance looked slightly affronted before saying, "Well, I owe you now. Perhaps I can do something in the future to help you out."

Yuren laughed, actually laughed. It was an odd, grating sound, and the walls practically cringed at the unfamiliarness of it. "You're ridiculous."

Lance raised an eyebrow. "Am I?"

Yuren immediately went back to being ticked off. "Why do you continue to ask stupid questions?"

Lance only chuckled, and stepped forward to draw his 'friend' into a warm hug. Well, as warm as plate armor can be. Which isn't warm since it's metal, and metal is only warm when set by a forge-fire, and Lance certainly hadn't been stewing himself near one for the last three hours. Therefore, the hug was not actually warm, it only appeared to be so.

Hence, Yuren shivered, the plate metal feeling icy and strangely smooth against him. Well, yes, he was wearing plate armor, too, but his was decayed in places, and in those places he could feel the cold better.

Lance, obviously thinking Yuren was shivering for dramatic reasons, embraced him more tightly. Yuren squeaked for air, though he really didn't need it all that much. Lance then pulled back, startled by the odd noise.

"Oh, my apologies." The paladin said, scratching his head in an embarrassed way. "I just thought… you know… you were cold."

Yuren's expression was something between a pout and a grimace as he shoved Lance out the door. "Whatever."

* * *

Felfe panted, and sat down hard on the grass. "Y-you don't… go… easy on me."

"It helps you progress faster." Kain answered easily, sitting down beside his 'charge.' "Besides, it gives you a better appetite."

Felfe, already munching on one of the sandwiches, only said "Mmm."

"Don't forget the cake." Kain said airily, watching as Felfe suddenly paused mid-bite, his bright eyes widening.

"Mmmm…" Felfe mused. "Mmmm hmm."

Kain laughed, and started on his own sandwich. He had finished by the time Felfe had eaten two, and both were ready for cake.

"You cut it." Felfe insisted. "I'm not good with cake and, um, knives."

Kain nodded, taking the special 'cake knife' and cutting a couple slices of the strawberry and cream cake. He took out a couple plates that looked suspiciously like they were made of ManaForge™ plastic and put a piece on each, handing one plate to Felfe.

Felfe wasted no time in devouring the delicious cake, and Kain ate his delicately while watching the scene. When Felfe finished, Kain took out a letter from somewhere on his person, casually handing it to Felfe.

Felfe blinked. "What's this?"

"An invitation." Kain said lightly, as if the matter didn't concern him in the least. But it was clear that it did.

Felfe opened the letter. It _was _an invitation. "A ball? At Silvermoon? Why are you having a ball?"

"I'm not." Kain said, looking away in slight humiliation. "Silya is."

"Oh. I see." Felfe said, reading the letter again, more carefully. "Sure, I'll go. It sounds like fun."

"Good." Kain said, relieved. Why he expected Felfe to turn down a party invitation is a mystery.

"Oh, but…" Felfe paused, frowning. "What do you do at a ball? Dance?"

Kain went to answer, but found nothing to say at first. "Well… It's… I suppose there's dancing, but mostly a lot of standing around and eating and making small talk-"

Kain cut himself off there, blinking and wondering why he had said something so straightforward. He wasn't supposed to do that. It was almost frank, almost _rude_.

Felfe giggled. Kain blinked again, face blank. "Huh?"

Felfe burst into laughter, saying in between, "You… hehe… look so… aha… confused…"

Why this was so funny, Kain couldn't understand. After all, Felfe looked confused a lot of the time, and that wasn't funny. Cute, yes, funny, no.

In fact, Kain hadn't felt (or looked) so confused since… well… that was a thought for another time.

He suddenly felt warm arms around him, and Felfe looked up at him with a soft expression. "Even if it is a lot of standing around, I don't mind. As long as you'll be there."

Kain gaped, his regular serious façade completely shattered. _Felfe _had made the first move today? He hadn't felt this disoriented in a long time. It was as if he had gone back to the past, and he was the same awkward, inexperienced elf he was years ago.

And, oddly enough, he could feel his face burning. That just… didn't happen! He was a blood-elf! A very seductive, confident blood-elf!

"Hey Kain, you okay?" Felfe asked, concerned.

"I'm fine." Kain said slowly, and wrapped his arms around the smaller elf, drawing him close. He tried to pretend he wasn't smelling Felfe's hair (which, by the way, smelled nice and clean) and smiled.

Unfortunately, no one ever saw that smile. But it was still a very important smile, since Kain didn't smile like that often.

They eventually drew back from the embrace, and Felfe shyly looked down at the grass, hit by the after-effects of such a bold move. "So…"

Kain wanted very much to lean forward and kiss Felfe then and there, but he held back that desire with an iron fist. It wasn't the right time. But when was the right time? Would he know when the right time was? What if it never came and he waited forever? Worse, what if it came and he missed it?

It was as if everything he'd ever learned about relationships, everything he knew instinctively as a male blood-elf, everything was completely erased. He had no idea what to do without all that knowledge, all that information that made every little choice easy. It wasn't just a game, now, with simple rules and a clear goal. This was different. The only thing it could be compared to was his time with Kael, and he couldn't think about that unless he wanted to risk another bout of depression.

What in the world was he going to do, faced with a blank board? Could he fill it out as he went along, regardless of the mistakes he was doomed to make?

"You look worried." Felfe said quietly, leaning forward slightly to get better eye contact. "Why?"

"I don't know what I'm doing," Kain said abruptly, before he even realized he had thought it. The stunned expression on his face after he said it definitely confirmed it.

"That's okay." Felfe shrugged awkwardly, leaning a little closer. "Neither do I."

* * *

"No, I wanted the red and gold plates, not the blue and silver ones!" Silya said briskly, throwing up her hands in dismay. "Can't you all just work with me here?"

The three blood-elf males exchanged looks and nodded quickly at her, obviously intimidated.

"Good. Now, remember, I want those nice red velvet drapes up today, do you hear me?" She ordered. "And you," she pointed to the middle elf. "Get those candles in here."

The elf ran out of the room hurriedly.

"Also, have the rest of the invitations delivered _today_. The party's tomorrow, _come on._" She said irritably. "And tell the bodyguards not to let Alyane in. They know who I'm talking about. Oh, and make sure to get a messenger to Temarr. Tell him I really hope he'll show up, even if it will be mostly blood-elves. Oooh, I forgot, oh no!"

She hastily took out a scroll and scribbled down a few names. "I can't believe I forgot them! All right, take invitations to them as well." She tore off the sheet of parchment and handed it to one of the remaining elves.

He nodded, and sped out of the room. The other one, the last left, looked uneasily at the doorway as if he, too, would have liked to run out.

"And you," Silya said slowly, happily, "I have a special job for you."

"Y-yes?" He gulped.

Silya dug a fancy menu out of the trendy pockets in her robes and handed it to the elf. "Give this to Yuren. Tell him to be ready for tomorrow."

The elf nodded quickly and ran from the room faster than the last two.

Silya smirked.

* * *

Yuren sat on his bed, feeling oddly alone. I mean, it wasn't that he _was _alone that bothered him. He was alone a lot. It was the fact that he had _noticed _the lonely feeling that made it odd. That just didn't happen.

The door banged open loudly, letting in a blood-elf who looked exhausted. He held out a piece of parchment in his shaky hand, choking out between pants, "H-here… for… you…"

He then collapsed rather dramatically onto the floor, causing the paper to float onto the ground beside him.

Yuren calmly picked up the parchment, and hauled the elf into a sitting position on the cold ground. "What _is _this? A menu?"

"It's… f-from… Silya…" The elf gasped, still taking fast, shallow breaths.

Yuren eyed the messenger disapprovingly. "Don't _kill _yourself over it."

"R-right…" The elf said. "I just… had to… get away."

Now _this _sounded interesting. "Why?"

"S-she's s-s-scary." The elf shivered, looking very pale due to the lighting.

"Silya?" Yuren scoffed. "That's ridiculous."

"I don't… know… but she's been odd l-lately. Since y-yesterday." The messenger said. "Ever since-"

"How do _you _know about that?" Yuren hissed. "Hell, how do _I _know about that?"

The elf blinked. "You know?"

"This is ridiculous. And you think she's crazy, is that it?" Yuren sighed, running bony fingers through his greasy hair. "Well, I couldn't care less. What's this menu about?"

"Oh, that." The messenger said, having forgotten all about it. "It's the menu for her ball tomorrow."

"A ball!? She wants me to cook for a ball!?" Yuren shouted, on his feet in an instant.

"Well, yeah." The elf shrugged. "Nobody around here cooks better than you."

Yuren brushed off the compliment and began pacing the two-foot area between his bed and the wall. It was very difficult, so he had to stop after a few times. "I'm going to need a lot of food. _A lot of food._ Do you hear me?"

"That's taken care of," The blood-elf nodded, slowly getting to his feet. "Everything's being delivered to the kitchen."

Yuren nodded slowly, surprised, before suddenly realizing another problem. A look of horror came over his face, and he quickly masked it. He turned back to the messenger hesitantly. "Can you cook?"

The elf blinked. "What? Me? Are you kidding!?"

"I'll take that as a 'no'…" Yuren muttered. Then he racked his brain for ideas. "All right, I want you to fetch Guanji for me."

"Uh… okay." The elf said. "Now?"

"Of course _now!_" Yuren snapped, hollowed eyes flashing, if that was possible. "Go!"

The messenger nodded, and he ran out of the doorway faster than an instant shadowbolt.

Ten minutes later he reappeared with Guanji in tow, looking altogether weary. The elf, not Guanji. Guanji never looked tired.

"Hey, mon." Guanji said, looking worried. "Someting wrong?"

"Of course not." Yuren said flatly. "Do you know where Lancelot is?"

Guanji scratched his head. "Ja."

"Can you… _tell me_… where he is?" Yuren hissed, annoyed.

""Course." Guanji nodded, his red mohawk bobbing in a slightly affronted way. "He be in Southshore."

"… Why didn't _I _think of that…" Yuren muttered, before beckoning over the messenger.

"Huh?" Asked the blood-elf.

"I want you to go fetch Lancelot for me. Go. Now." Yuren made a shooing motion with his hands. "Get out."

The elf sighed, and bolted out of the room dramatically.

"I tink he likes his job…" Guanji commented, walking back to the doorway to leave.

"Did I _say _you could go?" Yuren asked dangerously.

"Uh…. Nope." Guanji shrugged. "What be it now?"

"Take a look at this." Yuren said, holding out the menu to Guanji. When the troll tried to take it, though, he held it firmly, and Guanji had to settle for just reading it indirectly.

"It be a menu…?" Guanji said curiously.

"For Silya's ball. Which is tomorrow." Yuren explained briskly, not bothering with the details of why and how Silya had gotten together a ball so quickly in the first place. "And _I _am supposed to have all that food ready by _tomorrow._"

"Dat sounds hard, mon." Guanji said sympathetically.

"Yes, it really does." Yuren answered sarcastically, before taking on a more…. Well, the same tone. "Now, Guanji, can you cook?"

"Kinda." Guanji replied, giving a hesitant thumbs-up.

"Good. Come with me." Yuren walked out of the door, not looking back to see if the troll was following.

* * *

**_I regret to say that I won't be able to write for a while (probably until August). I'm very sorry for the late update, as well as my absence. I really like this story, so don't worry about it being discontinued. Won't happen, really._**


	2. Chapter 2

**Reviewers: **Yeah, I'm back! I really missed my internet access. And WoW. And this story. And all your nice reviews. Although I have read them now, of course, and I thank you for your patience and support! I'm going to do my best, as always. And even though school starts up again soon, I'll still try to update fairly often.

Random note. I have realized that there are NO tauren in this story yet. That has to change. Tauren can be so lovable! And there aren't gnomes or dwarves or draenei yet either, but no one's complaining about that. Lol. Omg, there aren't orcs either? Wow!

**EDIT: **This chapter is now edited for some logic issues, etc. Thanks to Dragonic Queen of Roses! Have a [Gingerbread Cookie.

**Disclaimer: **It's safe to say that I _do not _own Warcraft. But I do own my 'creations.' Especially Felfe, Kain, Lance, Yuren, and Guanji.

I don't care about Maren, though – you can take her.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

"So I told them there's no way I'm going to settle for that. No way." Silya said, examining her nails meticulously. "I mean, is it so difficult to find a plant with gold leaves and red flowers? This is stupid!"

"This is Silvermoon…" Kain muttered, pretending to read a very classy novel by the esteemed blood-elf author, Ren'al Brightsun. Despite its apparent popularity, this particular book was more likely to be found on someone's desk as decoration. Really, it was so dry it ought to be burned.

"I don't think you really understand me, Kain." Silya said in a near-whine, something that failed to sound bad coming from a blood-elf. "This is _my ball_. It has to be perfect!"

"I didn't say anything to the contrary." Kain said lightly, trying to appear amiable though lately he had been having trouble keeping his thoughts together and was just a bit frustrated with himself.

"Well," Silya huffed. "Maybe you can help me with the place settings, then."

Kain had to stifle a sigh before putting down the book. "As you wish, dear sister."

He made sure not to put _any _negative emotion into those words, since he really didn't want to be cremated quite yet. Mages with tempers were bad enough. Having a short-tempered mage for a sister was much more dangerous.

* * *

Yuren paced the kitchen frantically, throwing various ingredients into various pots and pans and altogether looking very nervous. Lance and Guanji stood off to the side in the only semi-spacious kitchen area, observing for the time being.

"The ball isn't until tonight. You still have four hours, at least." Lance said, in what he assumed to be a comforting way.

"Four hours? _Four hours!?_" Yuren said incredulously. "I can't finish all this in four hours!"

"You're almost done…" Lance pointed out tiredly.

"Ja, mon, joo worked… all night." Guanji said, yawning halfway through the sentence. "What be not ready?"

"Everything!" Yuren exclaimed. "The soups aren't reduced enough, the talbuk steak is far too pink inside, and I don't _dare _ask Silya to conjure more glacial water!"

"Someday I conjure joo glacial water," Guanji told him semi-comfortingly. "But mine be only… purified."

"Everything's fine." Lance sighed, folding his arms. "Except the chicken fingers. I think they're burning."

Yuren swore furiously and opened the iron grate to take the Ogri'la chicken fingers off the fire. Those fire elementals really knew how to frustrate chefs, even those as skilled as himself.

"I'll get you for that." Yuren muttered to the elemental, which would have glared back if it had eyes.

"'Dey look okay." Guanji said, poking the chicken fingers experimentally. Well, they were more arms than fingers, but that was how ogres liked them.

"The steaks are burning, too." Lance informed them casually.

Yuren bit back an angry retort in favor of quickly removing the talbuk steaks from their heat source, looking them over with a critical eye. "I'm _doomed._"

"Nah, dey be okay, too." Guanji said, but this time he sounded a little uneasy. Well, the steaks were a bit… black.

"I knew it! I never should have agreed to this!" Yuren said angrily. "I can't… it's not… it's not my fault!"

"It's fine." Lance said, stressing the word 'fine' to make his point.

"And just how do you figure that?" Yuren asked caustically, stomping back to give the soups a stir each.

"The desserts came out wonderfully." Lance suggested optimistically, glancing at the cooling-device currently running on the scarily frigid ice elementals. "And the freeze-system is working well."

"Oh, yes, it most certainly is!" Yuren said, adding, "Well enough that it froze _me._"

The silence left after his remark was long and boring, and thus shall not be described in great detail. After all, what do you say to a remark like that?

And then the door chose that moment to bang open, as it always did when a blood-elf entered a room.

"How is everything?" Kain asked, his eyes traveling to the soups, the chicken fingers, until finally resting on the semi-burnt steaks.

"How is everything?" Yuren repeated hollowly. "_How is everything? Tell me _you did not just ask me _'how is everything!?_'"

Kain, somewhat stunned, cast a somewhat stunned look at Lancelot, who made a noncommittal shrug. Kain then settled for leaning against the doorframe, surveying the scene while his stun wore off.

Yuren began cutting up the semi-burnt talbuk steaks into pieces for the salad with reckless abandon.

'Can't you do something about him?' Kain mouthed, and Lance raised an eyebrow, mainly because reading people's lips is difficult in the first place.

'What?' Lance asked back silently.

'Well, do something!' Kain mouthed again, and then scowled. He didn't really want anything adverse to happen to his second-in-command, as said second-in-command was usually the one taking care of things when something happened to _him_.

Lance, not entirely sure what he was going to say, coughed. "You know, Yuren…"

"What!?" Yuren snapped, slamming down the knife.

Rotted flesh severed, followed by aged bone and some more flesh. Sticky, stagnant blood slowly stained the wood counter crimson.

Yuren forcefully told himself not to look down at his hand. "I just cut off my finger, didn't I?"

"Ja." Guanji said calmly. "I go find a priest now."

And he darted out of the room quickly.

Kain blinked and tried to figure out what gesture would be appropriate for the situation. Because, contrary to popular belief, blood-elves didn't tend to cut off their fingers often, so he had no idea how to act in the situation.

Lance, on the other hand, rushed over to the counter, seizing Yuren's hand none-too-gently and gaping when the injured finger flopped onto the counter, completely separated from the hand.

Kain steeled himself not to do the un-manly thing and cower by the doorway, instead standing listlessly wondering if steak knives were even capable of cutting off fingers.

Lance, though shocked, had a better hold of himself. "What are you doing, you're a holy paladin!" He yelled to Kain.

"So are you." Kain retorted, resting a hand against the doorframe and pretending it was just there for aesthetic reasons. "I'm going to find a priest."

"Yes, that would be… wait!" Lance cursed as Kain more-or-less fled the kitchen. Well, he himself was a paladin, so he was able to heal, but he was still under the impression that his spells wouldn't work on anyone of the opposite faction. And Yuren was indisposed to say otherwise, looking down at last at his separated finger with blank confusion.

The blood was flowing at an alarming rate, dripping onto Lance's gloves like a melting glacier. Lance's thoughts jumbled themselves up so badly, however, that he couldn't think of what to do.

"Damn…" Yuren muttered, feeling a bit dizzy. The blood loss was probably going to make him pass out soon if it wasn't stopped.

And then he promptly passed out due to blood loss. Lance managed to hold him up, but it was very awkward due to the blood which was currently running onto his arm, and the fact that Yuren weighed a lot more than it looked like.

Yuren probably could have been majorly harmed if not for the timely arrival of Guanji, who had taken hold of the first priest he saw. As it happened, that priest was the same blood-elf who had delivered the menu to Yuren the day before.

The previously mentioned blood-elf priest rushed over to the unconscious Yuren and immediately began casting spells and murmuring incantations very dramatically. A slight glow surrounded his hands, as if they were working magic, which they were, and light burst from Yuren's finger, surrounding his body and then lifting the severed finger and knitting it back onto his hand. At last, when the finger was in place, there was one more stream of holy light and then it was all over.

Yuren hadn't woke during any of it.

"I'm afraid that this… is all I can do." The priest said solemnly, saying a quick prayer after his sentence.

"He be not dyin'…" Guanji muttered under his breath. Because no one wants to openly offend a _priest_.

The priest looked exceedingly serious after Guanji's sentence, and Lance's brain wasn't working as it should have, so naturally the paladin was just a bit worried.

"He'll be all right, won't he?" Lance asked, concerned.

The priest, welcoming a chance to show off his acting skills, said, "He may not last the night, my friend."

Lance promptly fainted, causing a mad rush by Guanji and the priest to rescue Yuren from hitting the hard stone tile. After all, stone wasn't the most comfortable stuff to land on.

Unfortunately, in their haste they forgot about Lance, who was falling as if in slow motion towards the stone tile. Probably not a good thing to be doing.

"No!" The priest shouted woefully, unable to do a thing because he was currently holding onto Yuren. Guanji was likewise helpless, supporting most of Yuren's weight because the priest only _looked _like he was helping – he actually wasn't holding up Yuren at all.

Anyway, Lance was about to hit the floor when someone came through the doorway and quickly grabbed him around the middle.

"What happened?" Kain inquired sharply, attempting to prop Lance up against the counter and failing. Lance's head lolled onto Kain's shoulder, and Kain frowned, repulsed.

It was a rather odd sight, with Kain holding up his rival while trying to maintain as much distance from him as possible, and Lance's limp body not providing much help. In fact, Kain looked quite uncomfortable with the arrangement.

"You take him." Kain said, holding out Lance in front of him like one would a pet kitten. "Guanji."

Guanji obeyed, since Kain was after all his guild master, and took Lancelot from him. The priest had to struggle to hold up Yuren, but he managed.

"Now what we do?" Guanji asked with slight concern, rearranging Lance in an easier-to-hold fashion.

"We heal both of them the rest of the way, and then wake them." Kain said firmly.

No one did anything for a few moments, so Kain cast a look at the priest.

"What?" The priest defended himself, pouting.

"I told you to heal them." Kain said irritably.

"I don't have any mana left, the guy was dying!" The priest countered, losing his serious edge.

"Joo can heal dem, can't joo?" Guanji suggested, looking at Kain hopefully. "It be just a bit left ta do."

Kain glanced at Lance, then Yuren, and sighed. He really hated healing when not in a raid. It was very humiliating being a Holy paladin when most people thought he was some kind of supreme tanking warlord. "Right."

He went over to Yuren and used one hand to channel just a little holy energy into his body, renewing the life force back to its regular state. "He's fine, now."

The priest took the hint, and dragged Yuren over to the counter to splash some water on his face while Kain went over to Lance's body.

Kain hesitated for a moment, and his eyes flashed with indecision. "He's not hurt, there's no reason to…"

"He be a friend, mon." Guanji interrupted, half-serious for once. "Joo owe him dat much."

Kain looked somewhat startled to hear Lance referred to as his 'friend,' and frowned yet again. But Lance's unconscious body looked completely harmless, causing him further persuasion as he wondered. Surely it would be okay to help him out, just this once. And then Lance would owe him, next time. Debts were a good thing, if in one's favor.

"What kinda healer are you?" The priest asked, poking Yuren to see if he was still alive. The water hadn't worked.

"Excuse me?" Kain said dangerously, turning on the much lower-level healer.

The priest looked completely unfazed. Perhaps Kain was losing his intimidating nature after all. That kinda thing happens when you hang around Felfe all the time. Or maybe the priest was just used to it.

"You're a healer, he needs healing. What's to know?" The priest retorted.

Kain was silent for a moment before calmly reaching out to place a hand on Lance's shoulder. The hand began to glow with a steady light, sending tendrils into the paladin's body to repair small things caused by trauma and stress, until finally there was nothing harmful left in the body.

Kain withdrew his hand with an odd feeling like he had crossed some sort of boundary into unknown territory. Did this mean he was friends with Lancelot, his former rival, now? He couldn't exactly walk away and go back to how it was before. Even if no one told Lance, Kain himself would remember how he had once helped him.

"Don't tell him." Kain said, only a hint of weakness in his voice. He was guild master of the most important horde guild there was. He did not plead.

"Ja, I can do dat." Guanji shrugged, but he was still looking at Kain oddly.

The priest didn't even bother commenting, since he was busy dumping a whole bucket of glacial water onto Yuren to wake him up.

SPLASH.

"What the hell!? Get away from me, you frea-"

"Plainly I'm not needed any longer." The priest sniffed. And he proceeded to run out the door very quickly.

Yuren brushed his soaked hair away from his face in disgust and suddenly noticed that his finger was attached again. He shook his head wearily, reminding himself not to chop so haphazardly anymore. He thought vaguely that he should be more shocked at the fact that he had cut off his own finger, but really he was so relieved that he was okay that his shock had just sort of… left.

"Are you all right?" Kain asked, in the most sympathetic tone he could manage. It was about the same tone he would use if he was telling them that the only zeppelin to Orgrimmar had exploded and they were going to be without fresh vegetables for a few months while a new zeppelin was built and in the meantime would be eating the rotten pumpkins that the undead were so fond of.

Yuren's sarcasm had left him for greener pastures, so he was for once without a source of poison. "Yeah."

And then he happened to see Lance, who was just waking up from having some water splashed in his face (albeit not a whole bucket of it).

"Hey, you okay?" He asked, not entirely himself. All he could remember was passing out while Lance more-or-less held him, so for once he was feeling slightly grateful. And then he quickly quashed the grateful feeling.

"I think so…" Lance replied slowly, rubbing his forehead. "I have the nastiest headache, though, like consecration… inside my brain." He winced.

Kain said nothing, and made a hasty exit before Guanji could so much as look at him. But Guanji frowned nonetheless.

"I get joo someting for dat, mon." Guanji said, going over to ransack the wooden cabinets for anything useful.

"What happened?" Lance asked, not recalling any particular reason why he could have such a bad headache.

"Joo passed out like Yuren." Guanji supplied, still searching for the medication. And then he remembered that he was a mage. "Oh wait, I conjure some water for joo. An' some food."

"That would be nice." Lance said wearily, before recalling what he had been wondering before. "So that's why my head hurts… I must have hit the floor hard."

"Nah mon, Kain caught joo." Guanji said, shaking his head. "I tink da damage is from when he be healin' joo."

"He healed me?" Lance frowned, rubbing his forehead again. "You think that's why I have a headache?"

"Well…" Guanji said hesitantly. "I be not sure dat's all he did."

Lance looked puzzled for a moment, and then angry. "What… what do you mean 'that's not all he did'?"

"Ja… he mighta… slipped in someting bad somewhere, I tink." Guanji shrugged. "Not dat bad tho'."

"Oh. Right." Lance most certainly did _not _sigh in relief, and started to drink his water. It was good water, purified. He was already starting to feel better.

And then Yuren, who had been silent throughout the entire exchange, said something completely unheard of, something that in fact wasn't even in his character to say. "You know, Kain never really hated you."

"What?" Lance exclaimed. "Of cou- what are you even talking about?"

"Absolutely nothing." Yuren said sarcastically, inwardly gleeful because he seemed to be regaining his venom little by little.

"Right." Lance said uneasily. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he had hoped Yuren was serious, for one reason or another.

"Joo be needin' rest, mon." Guanji told Yuren in a semi-comforting way. As comforting as a male troll could be, really. "Time ta get some sleep."

He shooed Yuren towards the door in an almost motherly fashion before turning to Lance. "Joo sleep too, ja? Joo feel betta den."

Lance nodded with a not-quite-happy smile, and went off to one of the guest rooms in Kain's mansion. It would have to do. He didn't think he could make the long ride to Southshore in his state, and if Yuren had been telling the truth – highly unlikely – Kain probably wouldn't mind all that much.

Lance just wished he didn't keep recalling that day a long time ago, when he had ended up wrestling with his rival on the leafy ground…

"Gah!" He sighed heavily, sitting down on the horribly garish – in his opinion – blood-elf style bed. It had gold trim on it. Freaking gold trim.

He only hoped the headache would fade completely so he could sleep. After all, there was the ball tonight. Wait, the ball!?

'_Yuren's going to have a fit.' _Lance thought absently, drifting off to wherever paladins go when they sleep.

* * *

_The first thing Lance noticed was the overpowering darkness. Suffocating blackness, covering him and obscuring his vision until he could barely see his feet when he looked down. He was faintly aware of the fact that he wasn't wearing anything, which made him quite nervous. But, though the stifling darkness should have been cold, he couldn't feel anything. _

"_Lancelot."_

_Lance glanced around hurriedly, startled by the unfamiliar voice. "Who are you?"_

"_I only exist in your mind, Lancelot. Ask not 'who' but… 'what'…"_

"_In my mind? How are you here?" Lance asked, unnerved. Then he added, "Is this place inside my mind?"_

_Hollow laughter reached his ears, but it seemed to echo from all corners of the place, though Lance could see none. The sound faded into the dark, leaving Lance in silence. After a few moments, he couldn't take it any longer._

"_Hey! Are you still there?" He shouted uneasily, backing up as if it would do any good._

"_Not for much longer… you have much to do. You must go." The voice said._

"_Go where?" Lancelot asked frantically, but the voice didn't answer. The blackness started to shrink and grow in strange ways until he couldn't figure out where he was and where the floor met his feet._

* * *

'_Ugh. That was weird…' _Lance thought as he got up, rising from the bed and habitually putting on his armor. He took a look in the gilded, floor-length mirror and his jaw dropped. Or at least, he thought his jaw dropped, but his expression in the mirror was clearly unfazed.

He was wearing an amazing suit of armor, worked with red and white. He wasn't wearing a helm – he didn't need to. His other armor was so heavily enchanted, so impressive, that no helm would measure up to it. And there was a tabard over it, scarlet with a very familiar emblem, one that he'd seen many times before.

'_The Scarlet Crusade… I'm a member of the Scarlet Crusade…' _He thought with horror, watching his face in the mirror. His expression wasn't changing.

He tried to turn from the mirror and take off the blasphemous tabard, but his body wasn't listening to his directions. In fact, it seemed to have a will of its own, moving here and there to take a brush to his hair, and then to examine his reflection haughtily.

"Good morning, beautiful." Lance said, winking at his reflection.

But Lance hadn't said that. Or at least, he hadn't meant to. His lips had moved of their own accord, saying words he hadn't even thought. Why did he have no control over himself? It was as if he was trapped inside his body, watching as the _fake _Lancelot went about his life. How long was this going to go on? Would he ever be able to get control of himself?

His body walked to the gilded doors, pushing them open and walking through the long hallway. There were many recruits, of all factions and races, even a few trolls and gnomes.

His body nodded at some of the recruits as they saluted hastily and made their bows, and Lance suddenly realized something. _'I'm not just a member, I'm a… a captain?'_

"Good morning, your holiness. How are you?" A rather attractive blood-elf woman said, her blond pony-tail swaying as she walked beside him.

'_I'm the commander of the Scarlet Crusade. #, I'm the #ing commander of the Scarlet Crusade! How am I supposed to deal with that!?'_

Meanwhile, between pangs of shock, he tried not to look at what she was wearing – a robe with high slits down the sides that exposed her legs in a very indecent way – and instead focused on what his body was saying.

"Very well, Silya. I appreciate your concern." Fake Lance said.

'_That's Silya! Oh, Light… Kain is going to kill me!' _Lance thought, but his body just continued walking, even after Silya left.

Now he was coming up to a very important-looking desk, where a male blood-elf sat looking over some papers. Was he wearing make-up? Certainly a form of black kohl around his eyes, and perhaps some color on his lips. His black hair was long and silky, unbound and hanging down his back, some of the shorter pieces near the front framing his faced nicely.

"Good morning, Kain." Fake Lance said cordially, stopping at the desk to smile at his colleague.

'_)(#)(#)(#)(#))#(&(&!!!!' _Thought the real Lance, turning things over in his mind so quickly that he almost missed Kain's reply.

"Good morning, your holiness. Going to see Herod, am I right?" And Kain actually _winked _at him, and shifted in his seat, drawing the fake Lance's eyes to what he was wearing, which was… exactly what Silya had been wearing. And it showed a lot of leg.

Real Lance spontaneously swore again, telling himself that he had never wanted to see that, and he certainly never wanted to see it again. But real Lance simply smirked unabashedly at Kain and winked back.

His body started to walk away, down the next corridor, and the real Lance was still too shocked to process everything. Had he just flirted with his rival? Had his rival just flirted with him? Was everyone here wearing that abominable outfit? But no, most of the trainees weren't, and neither was he. Did that mean Kain wanted to wear that outfit?

And then he recalled Kain's reply: "Going to see Herod, am I right?" At least that seemed somewhat reasonable. Although Herod was one of the most hated Scarlet Crusaders, at the moment going to talk with him sounded more appealing than hanging around Kain. At least Herod was definitely straight, in the best and worst sense of the word. Maybe he was going to train with him, or something. Or perhaps discuss battle plans. Yes. Battle plans.

His body at last reached gilded doors with his own name on it. It didn't look familiar. Perhaps this was his study, of sorts, or maybe a second bedroom. Though why he needed a second bedroom he couldn't fathom.

The first thing real Lance noticed as he automatically walked into the room was the shirtless man sitting on the bed. His brain sluggishly connected 'his bed' with 'shirtless man' and began to scream. Meanwhile, fake Lance walked over to the bed and 'shirtless man' turned around.

It was Herod. "Hey."

"Hey." Said fake Lance, smirking ridiculously as he sat down on the bed beside the other man.

'_Nooooooo! This is ridiculous, I can't… I'm not gay! I'm straight! Really straight! And not with Herod! Please don't say I-'_

"I missed you." Herod said in an entirely intimate way, sliding closer to fake Lance and wrapping his arms around him. "You were gone on that campaign for soooo long, you know… I was… lonely."

Fake Lance responded immediately, leaning closer to Herod with sultry passion in his eyes. "That's easy to fix…"

As real Lance screamed incessantly in his little corner, his body drew closer to Herod's, and the distance between their mouths rapidly closed.

And then there came a knock on the door, startling the two lovebirds out of their rendezvous. Herod gave Lance a fearful look, and Lance quickly drew back from him.

"Hide, quickly." Fake Lance hissed.

Herod dove under the large bed as Lance stood, getting himself together, and walked to the door.

Real Lance thanked the Light repeatedly for such a fateful interruption, and prayed that whoever was at the door might rescue him from more such doings. Perhaps it would be a lower-ranking officer, here to tell him to report to the battleground? That would be more than welcome after the close call with Herod.

The door opened, revealing a woman with silvery-white hair. She wasn't old, though. Her face was porcelain and perfect, smooth with sharply beautiful features. And her eyes… her eyes were molten amber, warm and yet oh so cold. She was wearing the same outfit as Silya and Kain, but it somehow looked more natural on her, though it too showed her milky white skin all the way up to above her thigh. And she was wearing an interesting hat, something like a chapeau, that seemed almost familiar…

"Whitemane, my love." Fake Lance said lovingly, taking her hand and leading her into the room.

Real Lance was, by now, so overcome with all the shock that he could barely pay attention to what the fake Lance was doing, so he wasn't even aware of anything until he managed to get a hold of himself again, by which time… well, it wasn't a good time. But it wasn't like he could have done anything.

"… oooooh, yes…" Whitemane growled.

Fake Lance smirked yet again and caressed his prey, bringing his ungloved hand down her side and to her legs.

Real Lance noted to himself that Herod was still under the bed, and at the moment his body was doing things to (and with) Whitemane that were really not chaste at all. And then real Lance decided to block it all out in favor of… well… anything.

And then real Lance wallowed in self-pity and remorseful confusion for several hours – by his internal clock's timing – while inhabiting the black abyss inside the fake Lance's mind.

When he at last became brave enough to look in on his body, he was passing Kain's desk again. But he didn't quite pass it.

"Lance!" Kain called out in an undertone, so that only he could hear.

Fake Lance heard, and made his way over to the desk. "Feeling left out?"

Real Lance gagged.

"Of course I am," Kain pouted childishly. "You never come to see me anymore."

Fake Lance smirked yet again, and suddenly his expression grew dark. "You're so incompetent! How can I trust you if you never do what I tell you!?"

He kept on yelling about how Kain was slacking at his work and never got anything done. Kain's expression was one of hurt and slight offense, but it was clearly faked. Fake Lance, however, was doing a wonderful job of faking his own anger.

Real Lance wondered what in the world was going on, and if he even wanted to know.

Most of the trainees who were up and about in the hallways went skittering away, until there were only a couple left who were pretending not to watch. And then those, too, left, leaving Lance and Kain more-or-less alone.

Fake Lance suddenly seized Kain's collar firmly, yanking him towards him so that their faces were very close. "I won't tolerate more whining from you, do you understand?" But that tone wasn't a serious one, it was more of a playful banter.

"Of course, milord…" Kain said smoothly, leaning closer.

Fake Lance brought their lips together hotly, his tongue slipping into Kain's mouth easily as if he did such things every day. Kain responded immediately, powerfully, as if he, too, was used to such things.

And then they drew apart from each other, Kain putting back on his smug expression (or perhaps that was sincere for once) and Lance looking very furious.

"I will speak with you later." Lance said coldly, but his eyes told a different story.

Kain got the message, and nodded slowly, pretending to be offended again.

Real Lance decided to leave, and didn't come back for a very long time.

And what did real Lance do for all that time, you wonder? Why, he had tons to do. First, he set about trying to forget Herod, Whitemane, and Kain. After that (which would surely take a great deal of time), he was going to meditate (though he wasn't a priest) and then he was going to either sleep, or faint. Whichever came first.

He decided to start with Herod. _'I'm just going to say it never happened. That's just disgusting.'_

He shuddered, and moved on quickly to Whitemane, which proved a trickier subject, as he was quite aware that his body had, how do you say it, 'done things' with Whitemane only hours before, and the thought made him want to retch. She was a strikingly beautiful woman, it was true, but she was _evil_. And, though he didn't want to admit it, he didn't really think of women like that.

'_I didn't want to have to admit that…' _Lance grimaced. _'But it had to be done.'_

Now that he had finally conceded to his preferences, the 'Kain' subject became a whole lot more difficult to dismiss. He hadn't liked Herod in the least. He hadn't once thought that doing those things with Whitemane was 'interesting' in any sense of the word. But he couldn't help but say that Kain had been less 'disgusting' than both of them. Why? Surely Kain was just as evil… surely Kain was just as horrible to think of in that fashion, surely Kain was…

'_I did not enjoy it… I did not enjoy it…' _Lance repeated, telling himself it was the truth. This was just ridiculous. Whyever would he enjoy doing such things with his rival? Well, his rival-on-hold. Or maybe, after the healing, his… friend? Wait, what healing?

But before he could resolve the issue at hand, he was prematurely thrust back into the skewed world of Fake Lance: Commander of the Scarlet Crusade.

Fake Lance was once again in his second bedroom, but this time he was sitting on the bed, looking at a map. The presence of the map caused real Lance to breathe a sigh of relief. Maps meant seriousness. Maps meant warfare. Maps, at the moment, meant no sign of Herod, Whitemane, or Kain.

The map depicted an area of land near Undercity, and it looked like the Scarlet Crusade was moving forces there from the Scarlet Monastery. A planned attack? It looked like it. In fact, they had so many recruits that it was difficult to say if they could be stopped. The map was a mass of red dots near Undercity, with barely any room for words and landmarks to show through.

That meant that he was attacking Undercity. A while ago, he might have leapt at the chance, thinking that in all honesty the undead were a plague to humans and the alliance in general. But now that he had met Yuren, all that had changed.

Was Yuren in Undercity? Did he know about the attack? Why wasn't Kain serving there anymore? Who was going to stop Undercity from being completely demolished?

The door banged open quietly. Such a feat must have required some skill and a whole lot of practice. Which made sense because it was Kain in the doorway.

"Kain." Fake Lance said in a satisfied way, rising from the bed and depositing the map on the end table beside it. "I didn't expect you for another hour."

Real Lance immediately forgot all thoughts of Undercity and began to panic.

"You say that every time, and every time we finish an hour later than you expect." Kain said smoothly, clearly having said it many times. He shut the door and added, "Curious how such things work out."

"It is only my carelessness that makes me forget the time." Fake Lance replied in a grumble. It was obviously not the case, as Kain swaggered up to the bed and made a mocking bow.

Real Lance was thinking that maybe he should tune out now and catch up later, but he really wished he could have more confidence in his morals, even if they did depend on this fake Lance's way of thinking. Surely fake Lance wasn't planning to… not the same day that he did that to Whitemane… Surely not!

Kain slowly drew closer to Lance, teasingly avoiding his advances as he did so. Real Lance, despite his absolute disgust, thought that this kind of game was probably why they went an hour later than expected.

'_I must be insane. I can't be actually getting used to this! It isn't real, it isn't-'_

But Kain's lips had connected with Lance's, and though the body wasn't exactly in his control, the real Lance could feel everything exactly as it would have felt. Except that he had no control over it, of course. The point, though, was that he wasn't really feeling that bad about the whole thing. Which was in itself extremely bad.

'_I am a paladin! A paladin! I serve the Light, and only-'_

Now fake Lance had Kain in his lap, which was causing real Lance quite a bit of shock as well as some discomfort.

'_I always figured he would be the dominant type…' _Lance mused. _'And why is it that I'm thinking so calmly about this, anyway? I'm about to… this is impossible! Why can't I move!?'_

Fake Lance was now moving onto more intimate things, and, as much as real Lance didn't want to miss what was happening – it was his body, after all, and he wanted to keep track of it – he was seriously considering skipping out again, back to the hollow blackness in the back of his mind, where he wouldn't hear or feel anything. But perhaps he should stay. He owed it to himself, at the very least. And if this was going to happen often, he would have to either get used to it, or become accustomed to spending an excessive amount of time in a dark vortex.

And then Lance helped Kain out of the top part of his scarlet robes, pushing him down onto the bed.

'_I can't take this…' _Lance closed his eyes tightly, willing himself into the vortex. But the vortex didn't come.

Fake Lance kissed Kain with reckless abandon, clearly used to such rough techniques. Kain kissed back fervently, his fingers threading through Lance's golden hair.

The vortex wasn't coming. The vortex... wasn't going to come.

'_I'm stuck. I can't believe this. I'm stuck watching myself do Kain.' _At this point, Lance concluded that he would never be the same again, and settled, to his lasting disbelief, for watching said 'torture.' If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. That was what everyone said, wasn't it?

The action became much heavier, and Lance closed his eyes furiously, feeling as if he was intruding on something, even though it was technically his body. Did Kain really feel that way about him? What was wrong in this twisted world? How long was he going to be stuck here?

And then Kain shifted slightly under him, trying to take off fake Lance's plate-armor pants.

* * *

"Noooo! Nooooooooo!" Lance yelled desperately, sitting up from his bed in terrified panic. "Nooo!"

Panting, he glanced around the room, taking in the blood-elf architecture, and stopped screaming. This wasn't the Scarlet Monastery. It was close, but not quite the same. And he was in regular clothes, too. Regular clothes meaning pajamas, in this case. Not his, really, but the standard men's issued pajamas that were in every one of the mansion's guest rooms for convenience. Of course, they also had women's pajamas, but that didn't exactly matter to Lance at the present.

Lance, at the present, was panting, and tried to get his heart rate to go down. It felt like a lead pipe smashing the inside of his chest. Slowly, very slowly, it lessened to a piece of wood, and then to a turnip, and then, every so painfully, to a regular speed and strength.

Lance wiped the sweat from his brow onto one of the pajama's shirt-sleeves, and tried to get some things straight in his head. He wasn't the commander of the Scarlet Crusade. That had all been just one big, sick dream. And he wasn't involved with Herod, or Whitemane, or…

'_Kain? Light help me… Light help me!' _He felt like sobbing, but held it back like the tough man that he was. After all, it would do no good to appear weak. That was always what he told himself.

But was he really capable of becoming a chauvinistic jerk like the fake Lance in his dream? How far away from that was he? Perhaps he was just being illogical, and the whole thing meant nothing.

He slowly rose from the bed, marching staunchly to the dresser and taking out his armor. He'd feel better with it on. The plate armor snapped into place, all of it fitting together nicely as always. He let out a sigh of relief; He had half expected to look in the mirror and see the Scarlet insignia on his tabard. But of course, that was impossible now because he wasn't wearing a tabard. Not while he was inside Undercity, at least.

A brisk knock came on the door, and Lance jumped, so startled by the unfamiliar (or perhaps too familiar) sound that he fidgeted for a few moments before quickly taking another hasty glance at the mirror, and combing his fingers through his hair before answering the door. Perhaps he was a bit like fake Lance after all…

"Good morning." Kain said seriously, as if he didn't really want to say it. "How are you feeling?"

Lance's mouth opened and closed for a few moments as he fought to restrain certain images of his (former?) rival. "I… uh… good morning?"

Kain nodded slowly, and then without further explanation stepped forward to place a hand on Lance's forehead, stunning the poor human paladin into more lengthy silence. Kain's hand began to glow, and Lance felt strange magic flowing through him, probing for weaknesses and injuries. Slowly the flow retracted from most of him, until it was just centered in his brain, which was a very unnerving sensation.

"Trauma? Again?" Kain muttered, surprised. "I thought I fixed that last time…"

For a moment Lance thought Kain meant 'last time' as a part of the dream, and he had a spike of dread go through him like a long nail.

"What's this?" Kain asked, again more to himself. "This is far more trauma than there was yesterday."

Lance still stayed silent, having nothing to say.

Kain didn't remove his hand, and the tendrils of light continued to probe. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing." Lance was surprised at how steady his voice sounded, and how quickly he had answered.

"Lies." Kain said boredly, giving Lance a slight jab with the light energy currently inside his body.

Lance winced, more at Kain's words than at the slight pain. "I had a bad dream."

"One bad dream could not have possibly caused all this." Kain argued. "This sort of thing results from highly shocking circumstances, particularly… hmm?"

Lance froze as Kain cut himself off with that curious sounding 'hmm?'. Had he found something? How much of Lance could Kain actually read like that?

"I can't tell what this is… it seems somewhat familiar, but I haven't seen it for a while." Kain searched farther, closing his eyes for a moment to concentrate. "Ah."

For Lance, the 'ah' was even worse than the 'hmm.' "What?"

"Something about a lover." Kain mused absently. "And… another one? And one after that."

Kain then took his hand from Lance, who was now shocked beyond measure. He just hoped Kain couldn't tell more specifics than that, or he was really going to be in a bad situation.

"Now, tell me where you found three lovers in one night. I could understand it if you were in Silvermoon, but the undead aren't quite as… casual." Kain said, looking oddly curious.

"I told you, it was a bad dream." Lance defended, not bothering to point out to himself that that really wasn't how he'd usually phrase things.

"Was it now?" Kain raised an eyebrow. "So you had a bad dream about three lovers? Can't have been that bad."

"It was. It was." Lance said without thinking, still caught up in his confusing world.

Kain frowned. "You're still very shocked, aren't you?"

"_You _would be, if it happened to you." Lance snapped, sounding more like Yuren than he ever could have imagined.

"My, my, touchy." Kain smirked, and folded his arms in a way that made Lance try not to remember how he had looked in that rather vulgar outfit.

Lance just held his silence again, awkwardly, hoping against hope that Kain would just leave him alone.

"I can heal that, you know. The trauma." Kain said offhandedly, clearing trying not to look like he was offering a big favor to his 'rival.'

Lance thought for a moment, before asking, "What do you mean, 'heal'?" After all, he, too, was a paladin. A holy paladin. Just what could Kain do that he couldn't?

"I can erase your memories. Well, not completely, but some of them." Kain said slowly. "I'd like it if you didn't tell anyone, though, because it's not exactly a common talent."

"You can erase people's memories?" Lance said incredulously. "How?"

"Well," Kain began. "I have to know exactly what the memory was, from start to finish, and then I can locate it. I purge the brain-cells with holy light, and then you don't remember any longer. Although I don't do this often for obvious reasons."

"So if I tell you a memory you can erase it? Forever?" Lance asked skeptically. "Is that… legal?"

"Certainly. After all, you're alliance. It can be deemed as an attack." Kain nodded calmly as he spoke.

"All right." Lance said slowly, hesitantly. "Come in."

Kain looked surprised that Lance would accept such a thing, especially from him, but he came inside the room nonetheless, pretending to be casually amused.

"So tell me of this memory you need erased." Kain prompted, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Lance, uncomfortable, sat down on the bed as far away as he could. "Well… I think I'd just like the whole dream erased."

"It was that bad?" Kain asked, interested.

"Yes, it was." Lance shuddered.

"Start at the beginning, then. Tell me everything." Kain said commandingly, without even a hint of sympathy.

"All right." Lance began the tale. "It started when I woke up in the dream and realized I was the commander of the Scarlet Crusade."

Kain suppressed a laugh, and Lance continued. "I also found out that I wasn't controlling my body. Something else, some _fake _version of myself was doing everything for me. The only thing I could do was watch."

Kain seemed to relax, interested in the curious nature of the dream. He himself did not have such dreams very often.

"Apparently my fake self was quite the… well… jerk… since he tended to act that way. I met your sister, and she was in… well…"

"I need to know everything, remember?" Kain reminded him, raising an eyebrow.

"Right." Lance sighed. "She was wearing one of those outfits, like Whitemane." He choked a bit on the word 'Whitemane' and Kain raised an eyebrow.

"Later." Lance said hastily, and went on. "Anyway, then I came to a desk with a male blood-elf, who was wearing make-up and was also wearing the same outfit as your sister."

Lance cleared his throat uncomfortably, hoping Kain couldn't detect his lies again. "And he said something about me going to see Herod."

Kain snorted in a dignified way that only blood-elves could pull off.

Lance cast him as sharp a look as he could manage (looking at Kain was unnerving at the moment). "I went into a room that appeared to be my second bedroom, and Herod was there sitting on the bed. Shirtless."

Kain burst into laughter, tears coming out of the corners of his eyes before he wiped them away. But he couldn't stop the laughing for a while, and when he did he had a hard time suppressing his smirk.

"It wasn't funny." Lance said, but somehow talking about all of it was making it less… well, scary. "After that, I sat down and he just… latched onto me, saying something about being lonely, and the fake person controlling me was about to… kiss him… when there was a knock on the door."

"You were going to kiss Herod?" Kain asked, eyebrows raising so high that they almost couldn't be seen.

"Not me." Lance said sharply. "Whoever was controlling my body."

"Ah, right." Kain said, clearly not convinced. "Go on. Who was at the door?"

"Well, Herod hid under the bed – I don't think he was supposed to be there – and I found out the person at the door was Whitemane. She also wanted… something… from me. And of course the fake me just had to give it to her." Lance mumbled the last part.

"I'm not sure I'm getting this. The 'fake' you _made love to Whitemane_, and you watched?" Kain's tone started out as purely inquisitive, but by the end he sounded entirely amused.

"I didn't watch much, I tried to block it out, and it worked. For a while I only saw black and I simply refused to watch." Lance explained. "But then when I came back…"

"Go on." Kain prodded curiously. All this was very interesting stuff. It would make a good novel.

"Then I passed by the desk again, and the blood-elf called me over, and the fake me pretended to be shouting at him so that everyone left the hallway, and then he… er… engaged in a very long kiss with… him… and then basically told him they would meet later."

"You're quite the player, aren't you?" Kain hid the smirk by running his fingers through his hair for a moment.

Lance looked away, and ignored the comment. "And then… I thought about things for a while." He quickly continued, hoping Kain didn't need to know what things, exactly. "I was then taken back into the dream, where I was about to do things with the male blood-elf. And then that started, and I attempted to block it, but for some reason I couldn't. It was getting to a very… difficult point for me to watch… and then I woke up, yelling."

Lance was, by now, extremely humiliated, especially since he had just told such things to his rival. But at least Kain didn't know the half of it.

Kain, who, by the way, had questions. Many questions. "What did this blood-elf look like? He reminds me of someone I used to know."

Lance hurriedly thought up a pathetic lie. "W-well… he was blonde, with short spiky hair…"

Kain placed a hand on Lance's forehead and frowned. "You're lying again. Why? Don't you want me to erase those memories, after all the trouble you went through to tell me?"

Lance paused, hesitant. He could tell Kain everything. Perhaps Kain could erase his own memory afterwards? It probably wouldn't work, though. But maybe he was supposed to try anyway. "Well… It's difficult. To tell."

"That bad?" Kain smirked.

"Worse than you can imagine." Lance muttered, before saying, "The blood-elf had dark hair, very long. He had pale skin, and, of course, green eyes."

"He does sound familiar." Kain said absent-mindedly, running his fingers through his own black hair again. "What was his name?"

"He didn't say." Lance said quickly, a bit too quickly.

Kain turned to him with eyes narrowed. "You know what it is, don't you?"

Lance's mouth dried abruptly at the sharp expression on his (former) rival's face. It was almost… frightening. And yet strangely familiar. "Yes."

"Well? What was it?" Kain asked relentlessly.

"It was…" Lance grimaced. He turned so that Kain couldn't see his face and then at last said, "It was… you. But if you tell anyone, I will…"

"Me?" Kain's voice sounded startled, more so than before. "It was me?"

Lance folded his arms uncomfortably. "Yes. But it wasn't my fault, I told you! I didn't have any control over what was happening."

"Was it good?" Kain asked interestedly.

"WHAT!?"

"Was it good?" Kain repeated.

Lance turned, red-faced, to see Kain smirking at full-level. Which was a bad thing to see, obviously, because he became so hypnotized by it that he forgot to speak. In fact, he forgot to breathe.

As Lance grew blue, Kain realized his mistake, and switched his smirk to the low setting, effectively releasing Lance from his prison.

"Why is it that you don't seem bothered?" Lance asked, when he got his breath back.

"Because," Kain said. "The concept of you and I in such a situation is not only completely _ridiculous _but also very funny."

The 'completely ridiculous' jabbed Lance in the stomach, causing him to wince mentally, but luckily not visibly. "Well, it didn't seem ridiculous then…"

"So how much of it did you watch?" Kain asked, insistent on asking his questions.

"All of it, until I woke up. There was nothing I could do." Lance said, now in a thoroughly bad mood.

"And… was it good?" Kain asked yet again, not having gotten his answer.

"How am I supposed to know?" Lance huffed. "I suppose it was all right."

"Just 'all right'?" Kain asked, his voice nearly a purr. He had a feeling he shouldn't be teasing the poor human in such a way, but it was such _fun_.

Lance froze, trying not to turn around and face Kain again. But having Kain at his back at the moment was making a shiver go down his spine. He couldn't predict his opponent's movements from such a position.

"Are you going to erase the memories or not?" Lance growled, more fearful than angry. He wanted all of it to just go away.

"Well…" Kain started quietly. "You see…"

"What?" Lance asked, his tone dangerous.

"I made all of that up. I can't erase memories, I don't think anyone can." Kain said calmly, almost smugly. "But that dream of yours was quite interesting."

"You…" Lance gaped. "You tricked me!"

"All in a day's work." Kain rose from the bed, heading to the door. "If you ever have any more such dreams, be sure to notify me. I'd love to hear about it."

"You can't just go…!" Lance said angrily, rising from the bed. "What about-"

"Ah, yes. I still need to heal you." Kain recalled, turning and walking over to the furious paladin and placing a hand on his face, effectively stopping him in his tracks. Wait, his face?

Kain's hand lingered teasingly on his face for a moment before moving to his forehead. Kain closed his eyes, and Lance felt the pulsing light flood the traumatized parts of his mind, healing the worst of it. The memories weren't erased, but at the very least he felt a tiny bit better.

Kain started to walk away.

And then Lance intercepted him, seizing Kain's collar impulsively, the only thing on his mind telling him not to let his 'rival' get away. Kain looked back at him, stunned for three seconds, with their faces much too close.

"What are you doing?" Kain said quietly, looking him right in the eyes.

Lance hesitated, and then let go of Kain, and brushed himself off because he had nothing else to do. He felt eyes on him, though, and couldn't avoid looking up.

Kain stared at him, and he stared back for a moment.

"You don't want me, you're only confused." Kain said very, very quietly. "I will not tell anyone. I expect you to do the same."

And then he took hold of Lance's collar in a similar way, and kissed him soundly. Lance was shocked at the fact that it was actually real, but the way Kain's mouth took over his… it wasn't like the dream at all. In fact, he didn't even feel the same. It was… different. Not entirely bad, but not quite right.

Kain withdrew, gave a stiff nod to him, and swept out of the room.

Lance thought for a moment before heading out the door behind him. "Kain."

He realized it was the first time he had called his rival by name, to his face. Apparently Kain realized it, too, because he turned around with an odd look on his face. Some disapproval and some confusion.

"You were right. I apologize." And then Lance did something entirely unheard of. He bowed.

Kain bowed right back, albeit in his own style, and smirked like his regular self. "Glad to be of assistance. I hope you find him someday."

"Him?" Lancelot asked, frowning.

But Kain had already started walking away, and this time he was walking much faster, and – if it was even possible – with a note of finality.

Lance went back to his room even more confused, but at least he had crossed one person off his list now. Or perhaps three, seeing as the encounters with Herod and Whitemane hadn't been at all satisfactory.

He smiled, then, because like Kain had pointed out, it was actually pretty funny now that it was all distant and not-real.

"Maybe I will. Someday." Lance muttered, completely forgetting by now that he was a paladin.

* * *

_**So, how was it? Did you like the odd dream Lance had? I hope everyone can understand it all right, what with the 'fake Lance' and 'real Lance'. Good luck, heh. Oh yes, and for some reason I'm expecting a good number of 'Omg Kain x Lance1111' reviews. Can't fathom why.**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Reviewers: **I had no Internet for about a week and a half, due to circumstances beyond my control. However, I wrote all this during that time. Which is why it's so darn looong. Have fun.

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own Warcraft! Surprised? But I do own my 'creations.' Especially Felfe, Kain, Lance, Yuren, and Guanji.

Maren's important now. Pfft.

* * *

**Chapter Three**

Lance knocked gently on the door to Yuren's quarters, hoping he wasn't disturbing him. He had actually asked directions to get there, though, so he was feeling quite proud of himself and therefore much less intimidated by the possible threat of rejection. Fortunately, or unfortunately, his knock was much too soft to be heard by anything without elf ears, and as it happened Yuren was not in possession of such things.

Lance knocked again. This time he tried to be a bit louder, and succeeded. He withdrew his hand quickly, straining his ears for some sign of movement within. He heard a few vague shuffling noises that could have meant anything, and then the door slid open with a creak – a regular creak, not a creak due to neglect of rusty hinges. Yuren was very good with details and most certainly kept his door hinges in tip-top shape.

"How are you?" Lance blurted out before he could stop himself, before Yuren even looked up from rubbing his eyes (as if that would do anything).

Yuren paused, finally looked up, identified Lance as Lance, and narrowed his eyes. "I'm dead, what does it matter?"

Lance immediately looked relieved, as it seemed Yuren was his old self again. That probably meant his hand was fine, too. He glanced at the hand in question, which was in full view because Yuren had just crossed his arms, like usual. "Your hand looks better."

"Better than what? A piece of rotting wood?" Yuren retaliated, holding out the hand and waggling a few fingers. "Does this look 'alive' to you?"

"It's moving." Lance provided helpfully.

"Gah! You're dense!" Yuren exclaimed in exasperation, shaking his head and preparing to close the door without further explanation. But Lance wasn't going to allow that, of course. After all, he _had_ asked for directions to get there.

"The food is finished now, all of it." He said quickly. "I just thought you would want to know."

Yuren paused, startled, at precisely the right point so that only half his face was visible behind the half-closed door. "It's finished?"

"I believe I just said that." Lance said somewhat happily, getting the upper edge for once.

Yuren growled. "Don't throw my words back at me."

Lance was about to say something to the point of 'I love it when you're angry' but declined in favor of trying to assuage Yuren's apparent annoyance. Or at least, pretending to. He happened to understand that annoyance was simply Yuren's regular emotional state, rather than one that occurred because of something bad.

"The party is in an hour. Are you coming?" Lance phrased the last part with extreme tentativeness. He had a feeling Yuren wouldn't like that question.

Yuren was quiet for a moment before speaking, as if gathering his thoughts. "Why do you care?"

"There's no point in going if you aren't." Lance said simply, resisting the urge to shrug nervously. There. He'd said it. It was the truth, after all. The party was certainly going to be horde-only, with the exception of Felfe, and truthfully Lance didn't think he and Felfe were _great_ friends, anyway. But of course he'd never say that to Felfe, it would probably cause him to break into tears. Felfe, not Lance.

… Although Guanji was going to be there, and he would have liked a chance to chat with an old friend again. So why did he feel like a party without Yuren was pointless?

Meanwhile, Yuren's eyes flashed with something like indecision (although what he was deciding was beyond Lance) and then he hissed, "Liar."

Lance pushed open the door indignantly, forcing Yuren to back up hastily in order to not fall victim to its swinging-danger-powerness. "Paladins never lie!"

Yuren raised an eyebrow, which he thought he remembered still having after he un-died. "Oh, really?"

"And I thought you said you hated stupid questions…" Lance muttered, coming to lean against the now-open door. He disregarded Yuren's obvious irritation at their positions – Yuren appeared to be in some type of tattered pajamas, ripped tastefully in the same places as his rotting skin was.

"And I thought I told you not to throw _my _words back at me!" Yuren exclaimed, annoyed even more than usual due to the continued presence of a human paladin near his room, which he had just had re-mustified since the last time, when Lance had used his bed for three hours (for the sole purpose of sleeping, mind you). And now he was going to have to get that done again, if this kept up much longer. He just couldn't stand the smell of holy water.

Lance smiled. Which was odd, because who smiles when they're arguing with an undead warrior? But Lance did, because for him it meant things were easy to understand again. Or at least, they were until what happened next.

Lance was still smiling a little as he persisted in asking, "Well, are you going?"

"No." Yuren scowled.

Lance's face fell, not literally thankfully, but even that was enough to cause Yuren to shift uneasily, not used to seeing such frank disappointment on the face of his 'friend.'

"Yes." Yuren corrected himself, not hastily but quickly enough that Lance eyed him in confusion. Yuren did nothing to resolve said confusion.

"Yes?" Lance asked dumbly, like an echo.

"I believe that is what I just said." Yuren said scathingly, but he didn't sound as harsh as before, at least to Lance's ears.

"That's good to hear. So I suppose you'll want to get prepared. I'll see you later…" Lance trailed off after the rather hurried words, seeing Yuren's odd expression. "Something wrong?"

"You look flustered." Yuren noticed aloud.

"Do I? Well, I'm certainly not, I mean…" Lance began a hasty explanation, because after all he wasn't actually flustered, just happy that there was going to be another chance to talk to Yuren, and…

'_Oh #$!' _Now he remembered exactly what he had been going to talk to Yuren about. In fact, he had not even thought of it all this time, not since he woke up in Undercity, not when he was cooking with Yuren, never. But now he remembered.

"Okay, now something's wrong." Yuren said sarcastically, watching as Lance's expression grew to one of horror and then one of disbelief. "What's that face for, anyway?"

"I remembered!" Lance said dramatically, and then said no more.

"Great. You wanna share?" Yuren scowled, and sat down on his bed, as it appeared this meeting wasn't going to be a quick one after all.

Lance sat down, still stunned at his own stupidity, and noticed Yuren shuffle towards the edge of the bed more, away from him. Weird antisocial undead guys…

"I remembered what I was going to talk to you about." Lance explained slowly.

"You mean when you came here drunk as a sixteen-year-old blood-elf?" Yuren asked usefully, his tone showing that he really didn't see what was so important that they had to talk about.

"Yes, that time… oh, yes, that was when…" Lance trailed off yet again.

"Well, what was it!?" Yuren demanded, impatient as ever. "I'm not going to listen to half-sentences for another hour!"

"All right!" Lance defended, and then gathered his nerve. "It was about that day when you kissed me." He was surprised at himself after saying all that without pause nor stumble, and apparently Yuren was, too.

"That time?" Yuren asked curiously. "What about it?"

Lance gaped. And then shut his mouth hurriedly. "What… what do you mean, 'what about it'?"

"Well, as I recall…" Yuren apparently had caught the disease from Lance, since he ended up abandoning his sentence and starting anew. "Didn't you say you liked me?"

"What? Oh, well," Lance certainly hadn't anticipated the dreaded subject being brought up so suddenly, so casually. "Yes. I said that."

Yuren thought for a moment before adding, "I think you might have taken things the wrong way."

"Huh?" Lance said eloquently.

Yuren narrowed his eyes, but for once put up with the ridiculous question. "You were upset. I wanted to comfort you." The word 'comfort' was voiced with utmost loathing. "I remembered humans doing such things, and thought it was appropriate for the situation. In hindsight, though, it wasn't."

"But-" Lance closed his mouth, cutting off the rest of what would have been a damning sentence. Then he sighed, and said the rest anyway. "But it was nice of you to do that, anyway."

Yuren stiffened as if hit with a frost spell, looking chilled. "Are you saying you liked that? Being kissed by an undead guy?"

Lance looked away, as was his tendency in such situations. "Well, it has kind of been a while…"

"You must be real desperate." Yuren said, amazed, and for once not at all annoyed.

Lance said nothing, pondering the possible truth of Yuren's statement. Was he really that desperate? He hadn't even been looking for someone. Hell, he was a paladin, he wasn't supposed to be looking for someone! But somehow when it happened it just felt nice, just for a moment. Did he really like Yuren, though? Yuren was interesting to talk to, sure, but romantically? Was romance with an undead even possible?

"I don't know." Lance said suddenly, not in response to anything in particular.

"What?" Yuren asked, forced yet again to be the one with the stupid questions.

"Maybe we could…" Lance shook his head violently at the budding idea, putting his face in his hands.

"You were about to suggest that we try something, weren't you?" Yuren stated flatly, with the same level of exasperation and slight amusement as he would voice 'you ate the last cookie, didn't you?' with.

"No." Lance countered immediately. And then he added, "Yes."

Yuren couldn't hold back a snicker as he muttered, "That would be interesting."

Lance swiftly glanced at his companion, wondering if he was serious. "Should we?"

Yuren's slight laughter stopped, and he looked back at Lance curiously. "I don't know, do _you_ think we should?"

"It might be good research." Lance muttered, recalling his ancient and decaying essay on the lives of undead.

Yuren rolled his eyes, but put forth no objection. Neither of them moved for a while, at which point Yuren took control again.

"Well, close the door!" He hissed.

Lance did just that, and came back to sit on the bed. Neither of them moved for a while until Lance said, "So, what are we doing?"

"Well," Yuren took out a small watch from somewhere on his person. "We have about ten minutes, not including the time I need to prepare for the ball."

"Prepare for the ball…" Lance chuckled. "Princess Yuren-"

"Shut up." Yuren snapped, before turning to fully face Lance. "Now, are we doing this or not?"

"What exactly are we doing?" Lance asked uneasily as he, too, turned to be able to see Yuren better.

Yuren took out a piece of parchment and a quill pen and hastily wrote some options. Then he tacked the paper to the wall (gently, and with attention to location so as to not hurt the room's overall neatness).

Lance watched interestedly as Yuren then pulled out a needle-thin dart that was usually used for subduing wild animals or performing acupuncture, Lance wasn't sure which. "What are you doing?"

Yuren handed the dart to Lance, and then told him simply, "Throw it."

Lance's mouth twisted in nervousness. "Is this really the best way-"

But Yuren had already thrown a pillow-case over Lance's head, so Lance settled for trying to throw the dart and at least hit the paper and not something else, namely Yuren. He drew back his arm, threw the wire-thin piece of metal, and felt extremely relieved when there was no yelp from Yuren, and no needle sticking in himself, either. Though how he could have managed to throw the dart and stick himself was a mystery.

He lifted the pillowcase from his head and saw Yuren already walking over to the wall, tapping the dart in satisfaction. Lance had indeed hit the paper, thankfully, and now it was only up to the dart to determine which option of many they were to test out.

"We-ell, this will be interesting." Yuren said in his usual tone, beckoning with skeletal fingers. Lance came forward to see that the dart had landed on a very 'interesting' option.

Make out.

"That's it? That's the plan? What were the other options…" Lance trailed off, reading the other options and wincing. "You don't have any imagination, do you?"

"You expected better from an undead with little to no experience in this category?" Yuren snapped. "All I know I've learned from bits of blood-elf films that Kain watches on the MORMRIS." (Magical Orb Receiving Magically Recorded Image Spells)

"You could have let me write them down." Lance suggested bravely. "Much of this could be improved just with chocolate sauce."

"You disgust me." Yuren muttered, before sitting down on the bed with a sigh. "Well, we don't have time to waste, get over here!"

Lance hesitantly made his way to the bed, feet feeling like lead hitting the ground. "Are you really sure-"

"I damaged my wall for _this_?" Yuren scowled.

"Fine, fine." Lance mumbled, sitting down next to his friend and possibly, soon, more-than-friend. How very sappy. And wrong.

They both sat there for at least another minute before Yuren spoke up. "I believe you're supposed to start."

"But I-"

"You have more experience."

"Well, yes, but-"

"And you're taller, which means technically you're the dominant one of the relationship."

"Relationship?"

"This is purely theoretical."

"Right."

"Just shut up and get going!"

"Get going?"

"You know what I mean."

"What, you can't say it?"

"… I'd rather not." Utmost sarcasm.

Lance looked at Yuren for a moment before taking the undead's hands and placing them on his own shoulders, looking very uncomfortable with the whole situation. Then he put his own hands on Yuren's waist, which caused Yuren to narrow his eyes and try not to break eye contact for lack of a better challenge.

Lance slowly leaned in, watching as Yuren remained stone-still, watching his movements with a cautious air. He came closer, and then finally close-enough to kiss, but one thing was bothering him.

"You're supposed to open your mouth." He pointed out woodenly.

Yuren opened his mouth widely.

"No, not like that, you look like a fish." Lance sighed.

Yuren closed his mouth.

"No, no, just open it a little." Lance persisted.

Yuren opened his mouth slightly, like he was about to say something.

Lance sighed again. "That will do."

Yuren, mouth still open, rolled his eyes.

Lance leaned just a bit closer, and pressed his lips to Yuren's, tasting an odd coldness mixed with very strong soap. Despite this, he continued without pause, lips moving over Yuren's as if mapping out foreign land, tasting the strange taste but not letting it stop him. He slowly pressed his mouth harder against his prey's, and felt them both fall back onto the bed due to the slight push he had given Yuren. Yuren squirmed slightly, but gave no other sign of discomfort as Lance played the 'dominant' role, mouth opening to give way to tongue, which he managed to get into Yuren's mouth somehow, though the undead clearly had no idea how such things worked. Once inside, he tasted a whole new range of things, not all bad. Apparently Yuren really was an admirable cook, because he tasted like all sorts of good food, mainly the soup he had been sampling earlier. Their tongues intertwined, bringing Lance's thoughts away from food and to the matter at hand, which he feared he might have neglected a little bit.

To make up for it, he began his efforts anew, slipping his tongue into Yuren's mouth again, this time with practiced ease, and rubbing Yuren's bony sides with his hands, which up until that point hadn't really been any use at all.

After another couple minutes of such questing, Lance withdrew from Yuren's mouth, and then pulled back and sat up, offering a hand to pull Yuren into a sitting position, which the undead took only out of slight disorientation.

They both sat there for a while, again having nothing particular to say.

Finally, Lance spoke. "Well, it was… interesting."

"Yes. It was." Yuren said blankly. "Where did you learn all that?"

"My various conquests." Lance explained, ashamed.

"Ah." Yuren said simply.

"So," Lance quickly changed the topic. "Unending breath is useful, isn't it?"

"Why?" Yuren asked, and winced because he was asking a one-word question again.

"There's my point." Lance said half-heartedly. And he didn't bother Yuren with specifics.

"So what's your verdict?" Yuren asked boredly, settling back onto the bed as if prepared to go to sleep.

"I'll think about it." Lance said slowly. "Everything's still a bit hazy." After all, well, he had just made out with an undead guy.

"Right." Yuren said, having the same feelings. "I'll see you at the ball."

"Of course." Lance said, rising from the bed and walking to the door. "I look forward to it, Princess Yuren."

He slipped out of the room before Yuren had the time to curse him.

* * *

Silya flitted around the large ballroom, adjusting the some of the place settings slightly and anxiously looking over the entire room, as if by scanning the surroundings she would be able to spot some problem, some minute detail that probably wouldn't matter anyway. 

"Guanji! What time is it?" She asked abruptly, turning sharply on the troll who was currently lounging on one of the red and gold sofas.

Guanji asked his internal clock, and answered, "It be bout time."

"What? Really?" Silya froze for a moment, and then quickly unfroze herself in order to rush around the other side of the table, fidget, and go back over to Guanji again. "You think it looks fine?"

"Ja, it be nice." Guanji said pleasantly. "Everyting be in order. Joo better get ta da door, 'do."

Silya hesitated, and then hurried off to the mansion's front doors, which were only a long hall away from the ballroom, and Guanji contented himself with getting up, brushing off the rather garish robes that Silya had forced upon him (quite literally) earlier. They were red, white, and gold, like everything related to blood-elves. It was almost as if they had to make everything those colors just to infuriate their rivals and alliance counterparts, the draenei, who made everything blue, pink, and purple. Guanji was just happy he wasn't on the alliance side, actually, since those colors were even worse than the blood-elven choices, which at least had the ability to look tasteful (if not the will). But of course, what would a troll know of 'tastefulness' anyway?

Meanwhile, Silya had indeed gotten to the doors just in time to greet her first guests. The doors swung open grandly, courtesy of the professional blood-elven door-openers (who doubled as guards, or what some people called 'bouncers'). Kain entered, looking as serious as he could but slightly abashed.

"Kain?" Silya asked, confused. "What were you doing out there?"

Kain brushed past her and waited for the doors to close before saying, "I locked myself out earlier."

"You did not!" Silya said in utmost surprise. "But what about-"

"It is of no consequence. You should attend to your other guests." And with that, Kain bowed and walked away, into the ballroom to join Guanji.

Silya pouted, but perked up when the doors opened again majestically. "Temarr!"

The rather shorter undead warlock shuffled in, looking embarrassed, before locking eyes accidentally with Silya. "I… is it okay for me to be here?"

"Of course!" Silya exclaimed. "Why did you think I invited you?"

That was meant to be a rhetorical question, but unfortunately Temarr took it quite the wrong way, turning very quiet. "Well… I thought it might have something to do with an underlying guilt…"

"No, no, no, really, I wanted to see you!" Silya cut him off, smiling, and pulled him into a warm hug.

Said hug produced a great deal of emotion in the angsty warlock, who quivered and attempted to hold back tears. Silya noticed and let go of him to give him a friendly pat on the back. "Go on, Kain and Guanji are in there, I'm sure they'd love to meet you."

Temarr nodded slowly, looking unconvinced. "You think so?"

Silya gave him an encouraging push in the general direction of the ballroom, and watched with a sappy satisfaction as he walked over there, although he didn't look at all happier. Maybe undead were just like that.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the door opening yet again, admitting a whole group of her blood-elf friends.

Much 'omg' and 'lol it's you' ensued, and among them the hoard of female blood-elves ecstatically discussed who was supposed to show up, and who wasn't, and overall just what they thought of both topics. Silya eventually, with much difficulty, managed to satisfy all of them accordingly, and sent the huge group off to the ballroom, smiling winningly.

As soon as they were out of sight she scowled. Not that she didn't like them, they were her friends after all. But they had reminded her (luckily not directly) of some recent events that she really didn't want to be reminded of. It was just good that no one knew about all that. Or so she thought, having no idea that Kain had been there, and that he had inadvertently passed it on to Yuren who had let it slip to Guanji who had… well, let's say Guanji really didn't have a sense of how 'important' it was that such situations be kept quiet.

The door burst open, and a group of laughing and smirking blood-elf guys entered the room, taking turns bowing and generally being flirtatious with Silya, who was after all the host and needed to be shown proper respect. Silya returned the looks, as always, and after about a minute ridded the entryway of them. They were the usual, that lot, all seduction and no points in whatever else they could have put points into. Great for parties, not so great for conversation.

Silya suddenly wondered why she felt so negative about everything, but had to dismiss her thoughts in favor of welcoming the next group of partygoers.

* * *

Felfe had just been admitted through the huge, gold-trimmed doors, at which point he became victim of an adoring hug from Silya. He blushed a bit, due to certain… conditions… of the hug that made it quite uncomfortable. But he wasn't about to say anything – she was the hostess, after all. 

"It's so nice to see you, Felfe!" Silya gushed, pulling back from the hug and patting Felfe on the head. Which she was able to do because Felfe was about her height.

Felfe, though mystified as to why she had patted his head, nodded enthusiastically. "It's nice to see you, too."

Silya smiled to herself, and then shooed Felfe into the hallway. "Go on, the ballroom's that way. I'll see you in a bit."

Felfe smiled halfheartedly at the prospect of going into the ballroom alone, and as he was walking noticed sheepishly that he was shivering a little. Although he excused it to himself with the fact that it was still very cold in the mansion (the freeze-system hadn't been fixed, and ice elementals were still running rampant), he couldn't help feeling a bit pathetic that he was so nervous. But really, he was feeling self-conscious not only because there would surely be huge numbers of horde at the party (horde who didn't know him and probably didn't want to), but also because he was dressed very simply compared to what he had seen blood-elves wearing just in the halls of Undercity. It wasn't like he had the time or gold to get anything nicer, so he just wore his usual pants and boots, a white linen shirt, and a simple cloth vest. At least it matched, unlike his armor combination, which lately had grown much worse due to the few quest rewards he had been able to use.

So, as Felfe struggled to push open one of the two huge oaken doors that lead to the ballroom, he naturally felt quite nervous about everything, and tried in vain to change his expression to a more at-ease one. He pushed the door open fully with a strong push, causing it to swing outwards, and he caught his breath, forgetting that he was supposed to be walking.

Everywhere was red, gold, and white. The floors were white marble as always, the walls were white with gold trim, also the usual. The curtains, the couches, everything was red with gold – the pillows even had gold tassels on them. But that wasn't what made the place so astonishing. There were so many people there it seemed almost impossible. Not one of them was an npc, either. Groups of blood-elves stood here and there, most congregating by the enormously long dark oak table in the middle of the room. A couple undead were here and there, but mostly it was blood-elves, female, male, but still blood-elves.

Said blood-elves glanced at the approaching newcomer (well, he wasn't approaching quite yet, still standing in the doorway) before turning back to their conversations. And then they took second looks, and spun fully to stare at him. Felfe figured this was because he was a night-elf.

He was wrong. Actually, the door which he had shoved open was swinging back slowly but with gaining momentum due to its weight, and Felfe was cluelessly standing in its path, mesmerized by the scene laid out before him.

The blood-elves naturally felt the need to say something like 'watch out!' but in their awkwardness quite forgot, and so it happened that Felfe's view of the ballroom was temporarily obscured by a large, dark shape that seemed to be moving closer.

He wasn't able to tell much more than that, because the next moment something slammed into him with quite a lot of force, and he was shoved backwards, and fell onto his butt on the marble tile.

And then Felfe had the misfortune to pass out.

* * *

The world came back into focus slowly, and through the haze Felfe could dimly feel someone patting his shoulder, but it was as though it was someone else's body, not his, and he was watching from far away. There were voices, but they were also dim and incomprehensible. He felt himself being helped into a sitting position, and it felt like he was being pulled through moonberry jello. Felfe decided he didn't like this new world one bit, despite his great liking for moonberry jello. 

Thankfully, he got around ten heals as he sat there, which made him quite grateful but also a little confused. How many people were there, anyway?

"Hey, you took quite a beating there." What appeared to be a blood-elf – if you counted a blurry block of skin and red hair a blood-elf – was apparently talking to him.

"Eh…" Felfe groaned. Another series of heals, and suddenly the world was coming back into focus, and the strange jello was dissipating.

From where he was sitting, he looked up to see not ten, not twenty, but perhaps thirty blood-elves, male and female, mostly paladins. And they were all staring at him. Felfe gulped.

"Sorry about this." Felfe said quietly, his stomach churning in tune with his whirling emotions. The fact that he had managed to get himself into a bad situation before the party even started was one thing, but disrupting the guests made him feel extremely unwelcome. And then everyone was probably going to make a fuss over him, especially Silya and Kain (although it was more Silya he was _worried_ about), and then this whole thing would be about him hurting himself, and not the party. And then Silya would be sad but wouldn't blame him, and she'd probably blame herself but everything would really be his own fault for not realizing the door was going to bang shut and-

Felfe was definitely feeling scared. Scared, cornered (quite literally), and guilty.

So he started to shake slightly, despite his efforts against it. Noticing that, the blood-elf nearest him, who was kneeling down – the same one who had spoken first – blinked and leaned forward to pat Felfe's shoulder comfortingly again. At least, Felfe assumed he was the same one who had done that last time.

"Hey, it's okay. It's those doors, they're enchanted to swing shut after you open them." The paladin explained, smirking a little as if there was something funny. "Lord Kael'thas used to forget to close them, and then someone would walk by and-"

"You're gonna get your tongue cut out if you talk any more of that, Liam." A female warlock snapped, stepping forward out of the general crowd. She was blonde and pale, a perhaps unnatural look for a warlock, who stereotypically tended to have black hair (as well as malicious tendencies).

'Liam' looked up at her and scowled. "No one cares." And then he turned back to Felfe like he hadn't said anything.

Felfe frowned uncertainly, not wanting to be caught in some blood-elf argument about Kael'thas. He attempted to stand, and stumbled. For a moment he thought he was going to fall again, that moment where his heart jumped, and he fell forward, through open air. But then he felt arms wrap around him, perhaps unnecessarily tight, and he felt himself pressed against a definitely-blood-elf chest. Not that he had hugged enough of the other races to be able to really tell them apart or anything.

"Careful, you're probably still dizzy even if the heals are helping." Liam explained, and Felfe could tell that the voice came from very close, which meant Liam was the one who had caught him. Unfortunately, Liam hadn't 'un-caught' him yet, and Felfe was feeling just a bit awkward, as the hold on him hadn't lessened and it felt quite intimate, being pressed against someone in such a way.

"R-right." Felfe gasped, not having quite as much air as he was used to. "L-let go… please."

Liam slowly did just that, although it seemed he was hesitating for some reason. Felfe brushed himself off, and looked up to at last actually _see_ the scene laid out before him. Liam was… well… a blood-elf. Long, reddish-orange hair unbound, smirking face, wearing formal party clothes like the rest of them. But, perhaps because of his tan, Felfe had a feeling he was a hunter. He was probably wrong, though.

Meanwhile, behind Liam was the group of other blood-elves, and nearly all of them looked either disapproving, angry, or worried. Felfe, following their example, took on a slightly concerned expression, and wondered if he had done something wrong.

"Um… I'm really sorry for troubling you." He said sincerely, bowing slightly to the whole group. He then fidgeted a moment, wanting to add something like 'I'm okay now so you can all go back to the party' but hesitating a bit too long to say it.

Liam saved him the trouble. Or at least, that was what it looked like at first.

The tan blood-elf smirked cockily, turning back to the others and saying, "Well, he's okay, isn't he? Nothing to see here, go back to your business!"

The others muttered mutinously, some of them seeming quite reluctant to go anywhere, but most of them left, leaving only the warlock lady. The warlock lady who didn't look at all pleased, and turned on the others as they left.

"What do you think you're doing!?" She yelled after the leaving group. "You can't just leave him here!"

Felfe frowned more deeply, wondering why it wasn't okay to 'just leave him'. He knew his way around the mansion pretty well, and it looked like he was in one of the sitting rooms adjoining the big hallway that lead to the ballroom. It wasn't that difficult to find.

The door closed after the large group, leaving Felfe, Liam, and the warlock.

"If you don't leave _right this second_, Liam, I'm going to report you." She hissed under her breath. But having elven ears, Felfe heard every word. But he still couldn't fathom why she was so angry at him. Not him, but Liam.

"Relaaax." Liam smirked. Felfe noticed that he was using the full-setting smirk, and thought it was just a bit dangerous, since if a non-blood-elf was hit by it directly they were liable to be stunned or at least distracted, which could be hazardous in some situations.

"Leave." The warlock stepped forward menacingly, and then darted around Liam to stand in front of Felfe.

"Why are you protecting him, anyway?" Liam raised an eyebrow. "You're just a suck-up, as usual."

The warlock seemed to seethe angrily for a moment before gathering her wits and countering, "This is it. Leave, or I'll get out the succubus and tie you up for the cleaning staff to find."

"Oh, touchy." Liam folded his arms casually, apparently not the least threatened. "And what makes you think I can't just call my _kitty?_"

"What?" The warlock spluttered furiously. "Pets aren't allowed in the mansion!"

"Still," Liam continued in what seemed to be his usual drawl. "I _could_."

The warlock shifted uneasily, contemplative, before at last acknowledging Felfe by half-turning towards him and whispering, "Hey."

Felfe looked at her wordlessly, wondering what in the world was going on.

"As soon as I get the succubus out I want you to _run_, got it? Run for help, try to find Kain if you can. Tell him Liam's after you." The warlock whispered, so quietly that even Felfe had trouble hearing it. Which was good, because that meant Liam probably couldn't hear it. But wait…

Why was Liam 'after' him? Was it really that dangerous? Why were blood-elves fighting in the mansion of all places, at a party?

Felfe nodded despite his incredulity, and the warlock turned back around. Liam narrowed his eyes, and Felfe shuddered, not at all liking that look. That was a dangerous look, one he'd seen a few times before and never took as a good sign.

The warlock suddenly started to cast her summon spell, the ground below her glowing dark purple and blue, the lights swirling up and around her to culminate in a glowing ball of light above her head. The hunter obviously noticed this, but stalled for a few moments as if hesitant to attack outright before she did. At last, after only a few seconds, he apparently got his act together.

"Shiya'mal!" He yelled, and immediately a dark panther rushed in, managing to knock the door open in the process. Without even a command from its master it leapt at the warlock. Felfe was about to do _something_, even though he had no idea what, but right as the cat was about to interrupt the spell the warlock finished casting, and out came a succubus, who set to work ensnaring Liam with its seductive magic.

"Run!" The warlock yelled, and Felfe obeyed, sprinting out the already-open door and into the hallway. He could hear the distant, frustrated noise from Liam, who might have broken out of the succubus's hold. And then a scream from the warlock.

Felfe ran faster, though he felt like he should have turned back to help. Why was she doing this for him? She didn't owe him anything – he'd never even met her before today, and it wasn't exactly like she appeared fond of him. And what was going on with Liam, and why was he so dangerous? Yes, Felfe could tell that there was definitely something wrong, but he couldn't define it. 'Liam's after you.' Was he trying to hurt him? It hadn't looked like that; In fact, he had seemed pretty nice in the beginning.

Felfe's mind was still racing as he did, down the hallway, farther and farther down the hallway. It was a long hallway, but he knew at the end was the ballroom. And there, hopefully, was someone who could help. He just hoped he'd get there in time. He didn't want the warlock to get hurt.

What if she died? How would he explain that? If only he was a better rogue… then he could have stayed and fought, maybe even fended off Liam alone and let _her _run. But no, he was a terrible rogue and it was always him running, always someone else helping him out, letting themselves get hurt instead.

'_Muffins!' _Felfe felt himself trembling as he ran, almost to the huge doors of the ballroom. But he wasn't going to let it take over him, he wasn't going to cry. The warlock needed help, and crying would only prolong that.

He almost fell against the doors in his haste, and skidded to a stop, nearly throwing himself at them to get them to open. One struggling push, and then the one door heaved open, and Felfe slipped inside.

There were still a lot of blood-elves, but Felfe noticed that the particular group he had seen earlier wasn't there. Or if they were, they weren't all still together. Why was that? Was it just coincidental, or did they split up on purpose?

And then Felfe spotted Guanji, easily visible by his red mohawk. He wasted no time on pretences, and rushed up to the troll, grabbing the sleeve of his robe to get his attention.

Guanji brightened, opening his mouth to say something, but Felfe interrupted, not bothering with manners at such a time.

"Where's Kain?" He blurted out.

Guanji looked stunned that Felfe would say something like that without even greeting him, and asked, "Someting be wrong?"

"Someone's in trouble, I need to find Kain!" Felfe said, quieter this time but still frantic.

Guanji's eyes widened, and he dragged Felfe over to the back of the room, where there was a small door leading to a short hall which had a door into the kitchens. They entered to find Yuren and Lance, both talking more-or-less companionably.

"Where be Kain?" Guanji glanced around worriedly. Felfe, behind him, was already backing up to continue searching.

"Something's wrong." Lancelot said with horror, coming forward and pushing Guanji aside as gently as possible to look at Felfe. "What happened?"

"Someone's in trouble, and I… need to find Kain." Felfe said anxiously. It occurred to him that maybe Yuren could help, being second-in-command or whatever he was, and he hesitated for a moment before adding, "Liam's after me."

"Oh, hell." Yuren cursed, coming forward and taking Felfe by the arm. "Come with me. Lance, you follow behind. Guanji, keep looking for Kain. Tell him we're in the 1337 room."

"W-wait!" Felfe said, squirming because Yuren was basically dragging him along beside him. "T-there's a warlock, she's in trouble!"

Lance, Guanji, and Yuren stopped walking, and the former two turned back to listen.

"What?" Yuren hissed. "Where? How?"

"I think she was protecting me, she's in one of the sitting rooms down the big hall, fighting him." Felfe explained quickly.

"Him? Liam?" Yuren asked sharply. "She's fighting Liam!?"

Felfe nodded, eyes widening with worry at the tone Yuren said that with. Yuren wasn't exactly freaking out, but this was as close as he'd come, as far as Felfe had seen.

"Damn it…" Yuren said quietly, gripping Felfe's arm even more tightly. "_Some_ plans… When I see Kain I ought to…"

Guanji spoke up, serious for once. "I go look for Kain, mebbe joo an' Lance go get Liam."

Yuren's eyes flashed scarily for a moment as he said, in a low and very dangerous tone, "And where does that leave Felfe?"

"He be safest where joo are, mon." Guanji said cautiously.

"There's no other way." Lance said suddenly, beckoning Yuren to go the same way as him, towards the ballroom.

Yuren scowled. "You're one to talk, you don't even know what's going on!"

"But I can guess." Lance said seriously. "Let's go."

Guanji nodded at Yuren, swept a clumsy bow (which strangely enough Felfe had never seen him do), and ran out of the room the opposite way Lance was heading. Yuren took hold of Felfe's arm with renewed impatience, and dragged him over to where Lance was.

"All right." Yuren said hesitantly. "Look, Felfe, stay by me, whatever happens." He looked annoyed, probably because protecting Felfe made him look chivalrous and noble.

Felfe nodded hurriedly, and looked to Lance as Yuren addressed him.

"He's tougher than he looks. I would normally be able to handle him myself, but I have to watch out for Felfe. You're going to have to back me up, maybe take the brunt of it. You okay with that?" Yuren opened the door, leading them through the ballroom and suddenly walking more casually. Felfe, though normally quite oblivious to things like this, took the hint and tried to act like he wasn't hurrying, or being dragged along by Yuren.

"Of course." Lance said, his tone a mask of pleasantness not betraying their situation.

They at last made it to the huge doors, which Yuren pushed open effortlessly with a strength his undead frame certainly didn't hint at. Lance followed behind them, hand now on the hilt of his sword. Felfe felt himself become strangely cold, like the seriousness of the situation was now hitting him full force.

They proceeded down the hallway until at last they passed one door, the next, and one after that.

"We're close." Felfe said. When they came to the next door, Lance pushed it open, but the room was empty, with no sign of a battle.

"Not this one." Lance muttered, and they kept on.

The next door also yielded nothing, but the one after that… well, it wasn't good. Felfe couldn't see at first because of Lance blocking his view, but he could tell it was bad because Lance froze in place.

Yuren immediately pushed Felfe behind him, yelling, "Stealth!"

Felfe stealthed, and started moving away, figuring that was what Yuren had meant by it. Lance still hadn't moved, and now that Felfe was moving away he saw the light hitting the area around the paladin, and could tell that it was an ice block.

Felfe knew from somewhere that hunters used ice blocks, and felt his blood run cold, with no connection to the fact that he was thinking of ice blocks. Hunters… it had to be Liam. And if Liam was in there, and he had set them up… that meant the warlock wasn't there, or wasn't in a condition to fight. And if she hadn't called to them for help when they opened the door, she probably couldn't speak, either.

As Felfe continued to back away slowly from Yuren, he saw the panther scramble out of the doorway, dodging the frozen Lance and leaping straight at Yuren. Yuren blocked with his huge shield, and landed a good hit with his sword. The cat yowled but kept attacking, clawing Yuren's shoulder when the undead dodged a hit and then left himself open.

Yuren grimaced and dealt the panther a heroic strike, pausing after it to glance at Lance.

Liam stepped out of the doorway and Felfe stopped moving of his own accord, shocked. Smirking, he had the warlock slung over his shoulder like some sort of grotesque trophy. She wasn't terribly mangled, in fact she didn't look bloodied at all from where Felfe was. But there was something in the way she lay over his shoulder, unmoving, that made it clear…

"Liam." Yuren hissed, striking the cat again and dodging as the cat attacked back. Liam made no hurry in readying his bow, looking around as if searching for something. Felfe belatedly realized that it was probably him. Liam was looking for him.

Without bothering to think of the reasons why, Felfe knew he had to get away. He continued backing up, trying to be as quiet as possible. But he should have known that hunters had over-developed senses, especially hunters as seasoned as Liam. And he should have remembered that Yuren had told him to stay by him.

The cat sniffed the air for a moment before tearing away from Yuren, who gave a yell of outrage but to no avail. Yuren glanced back and forth, cat to Liam, before intercepting Liam and hacking away at him. But Liam had an axe, and used it to parry most of the warrior's hits while still directing his pet.

The pet which had unfortunately found Felfe.

Felfe felt long claws rake down his back, and was hit by a horror-filled déjà vu. Except that trained panthers were much worse than regular Southshore mountain lions. He heard ripping, probably of his skin, and his back seared with pain. Suddenly all sound dimmed around him, and the jello came back in full force.

He felt his knees buckle, and he fell to the ground, crumpling to the floor to lay still, trying to get up and run but unable to do anything but twitch his fingers, and even that made him even more aware of his health draining, and the wetness he could feel the air hitting. He was vaguely aware of the panther returning to Yuren as his vision went fuzzy.

'_No! I can't lose it now!' _Tears stung his eyes as he tried to get his sight back, but he was at least trying. He dragged himself into a sitting position, gasping loudly as fire shot through the raked lines on his back. He panted slightly, lifting his head enough to see what was going on.

Lance had finally been released from his icy prison, and was now alternating between healing Yuren and attacking Liam, who seemed to be having a sadistic fun with the whole battle, having his cat attacking Lance as often as possible, though Yuren managed to sometimes get its attention to himself instead. He was a tank, after all, and Lance was a healer. But it wasn't working as well as it should have. And where was Liam getting the heals from, anyway? They weren't that big, but there were a couple of small ones every so often, restoring enough health that Liam didn't seem to be losing the battle despite it being technically one versus two.

Felfe dragged himself to lean against the wall, crying out as his back touched its smooth surface. He fell to his knees again, and when he looked up at the wall, as if expecting to see spikes as the source of his pain, he saw that the usually white wall, trimmed with gold edging, was stained bright red from where he had touched it for only an instant. His eyes stung fiercely from watering, and he wiped them with the back of his hand, already trying to move again. He managed to get halfway to his feet when he saw it.

Around the corner, out of sight from Yuren and Lance, were two priests. Felfe at first couldn't see them well, but then he focused more and could make out their appearances. There was a male and a female, both blood-elves. The male had long, brown hair and a very dramatic appearance. Felfe couldn't say exactly what it was that made him dramatic, but it was there. The female was blonde and… Maren? Yes, it was definitely Maren. Felfe felt his stomach turn over, knowing that someone who was helping this Liam, this weird, almost _insane_ guy, was someone he had known. Maren… he'd kinda liked her. Not like that, but she had been nice.

He of course had no idea that she had been the one who had mind-controlled him that one time.

Felfe, after identifying the priests, felt he should warn Yuren and Lance, who seemed to be wavering. Lance's mana was probably going to run out soon. But would be able to call out to them without fainting or something? Would it be a bad idea to draw more attention to himself? But he had to! He wasn't going to run away like last time. Muffins, this time he couldn't _move_, much less run…

"There's… priests! Behind… the… corner!" Felfe choked out, his words dissolving into coughing after 'corner.'

Yuren at first didn't seem to hear, but then he moved slightly to get a better view and yelled something to Lance, who yelled back. Felfe knew it was something important, but couldn't will himself to listen.

In actuality, Yuren's words really weren't that important, going something like, "Over there! Wait… isn't he the messenger guy from yesterday!?"

And then Lance's unimportant reply, "It doesn't matter, just take them out!"

But as Felfe watched, Liam began firing shots at light speed, all focused on Yuren. Yuren, who had been turning around and preparing to intercept one of the priests, slowed and was barely able to move forward.

Lance yelled something, and Yuren yelled back again, and then Yuren managed to get himself close enough to intercept, charging Maren slowly, as if he too was afflicted by the jello world Felfe was trapped in. Lance was trying to heal it or something, but Liam's cat was interrupting him, and Liam himself continued shooting at Yuren. And it looked like Yuren's health was getting low.

Felfe would have done _something, anything_ if it weren't for the fact that his health was so low that it was impossible to move. And it was still draining, ever-so-slowly, due to the bleed effect. What was going to happen after he finally passed out? That time would probably come soon, and then Yuren and Lance would be alone against Liam with healbot-ers. Would they make it?

Felfe couldn't imagine Yuren and Lance not making it, but all the same it looked possible in the current situation. And what then? The second-in-command of the horde army, wiped out all because one night-elf couldn't take care of things himself? All because, for some reason, some insane hunter was after him?

"Liam!" Felfe yelled abruptly, without really knowing what he was doing.

Liam, who had been firing multiple shots at Yuren, actually turned away from the battle to glance at the night-elf. "My, you're still conscious? You must have more _stamina_ than I thought." And he used the full-setting smirk, which consequently had little effect because Felfe was already on his knees, and his world was already moonberry jello.

"Why… are you… doing this!?" Felfe demanded, one hand clutching at his other arm to try and draw attention away from the wounds on his back. But it wasn't working, and it _hurt_. Like _cake_.

Liam looked a bit surprised at such a question, and Felfe thought that he was going to ignore it and turn back around to continue fighting, but he didn't. Instead, he took on that dangerous look again, narrowed eyes and smirk still on full. "Because you're _mine_, Felfe, and if I have to get you by force, I will."

Felfe's world spun dangerously for a moment as his mind processed the words. _You're mine, Felfe… mine… mine… _

"T-that's…" Felfe started, but his shaking arms gave way and he fell forward onto the marble. Gritting his teeth, he tried to keep talking, anything to distract Liam from the fight and maybe buy them more time. "That's… ridiculous! Why…"

"I knew when I first saw you." Liam interrupted, explaining with an overly-casual but not feigned air. "A delicate toy, to be sure, but one that can be broken, and then put back together."

The last sentence didn't seem to be especially directed at Felfe, and he noticed that Yuren and Lance both yelled back at Liam angrily, though because of their simultaneous replies he couldn't hear what they said. But Felfe only knew that Liam had just called him a 'toy,' which made him wonder what made him seem like that, and…

… And he was probably going to pass out soon, because he could feel the blood from his back seeping down around his sides and to his front. It was an extremely sickening sensation, and paired with the roaring white pain of his back he felt like he wouldn't be able to take much more, though he would have liked to set things straight for Liam, who seemed to be thinking a lot of things that weren't true.

"Not… a toy…" Felfe said, but it was low and quiet, and he couldn't muster the strength to be any louder.

For some reason, though, perhaps due to his heightened senses, Liam heard. And he laughed, that cruel blood-elf laugh, after which he drawled, "Not a toy? How do you figure that, little night-elf?"

Being called 'little night-elf' was enough of a sting as a compliment, which Felfe heard plenty. As an insult it was just infuriating, and Felfe had had quite enough of being devalued, especially by 'manlier' men.

"Toys. Don't. Have. Feelings." He shouted, trying to get back to his feet again.

Liam's eyebrows rose considerably at the counter, and he turned back yet again to assess the night-elf who was now more-or-less standing, supported by a hand on the wall. "Good point, but I don't think you're in any condition to be arguing." He said it with a honeyed tone, mockingly, as if that would convince Felfe of its truth.

When Lance heard that, though, he glanced worriedly at Felfe, and yelled something to Yuren. Yuren said something back and also glanced at him. But Felfe knew what they were thinking, regardless of his lack of hearing at the moment. They were trying to protect him, and the whole point of protecting him was of not letting him get hurt, or worse, die. And now they were trying to come up with some futile plan to get him healed, or away from the danger, or something. But they were neglecting their battle.

"Don't bother!" Felfe gasped out, gritting his teeth after the outburst caused a burst of pain. "I'm… fine!"

Yuren and Lance both looked stunned, but that could have been because of the cat, which was still very much alive and attacking with even more strength than before. Unfortunately, Yuren still hadn't finished off Maren due to the cat, Liam, and the messenger guy's healing. And apparently Lance had just run out of mana, because he suddenly switched from casting to attacking Liam with his sword. Liam switched from bow to axe, trading blows with the paladin, looking more satisfied than ever now that the battle was perhaps nearing a close.

Felfe wondered vaguely what would happen to _him_. Liam obviously wasn't going to kill him or let him die, so the priests would probably heal him. And then what? Were they going to tie him up and kidnap him? That just seemed a bit… overboard. And barbaric. Did Liam really mean all that about the 'toy'? Did he intend to…

Felfe was distracted by Lance flying backwards into a wall, targeted by both Liam and his pet. Yuren plainly was deciding between rescuing Lance and potentially finishing off the priests, who were backing up slowly.

Suddenly, as Lance was clawed by the panther, Yuren turned and yelled, "You're low, Lance, bubble hearth!"

A few rooms away, a group of male blood-elf paladins heard the shout, and they all nodded wisely, sharing knowing looks.

Liam laughed maliciously as he took out his axe again, with his pet still attacking Lance. But Lance stood his ground like the noble, holier-than-thou paladin he was.

"No! I won't leave you here!" Lance bellowed, trying to parry the huge axe's strikes with his (+ spell damage) sword.

The paladins a few rooms away gasped, clapped hands over their mouths, and altogether looked very moved. A few of them muttered, amazed.

One of the paladins, awed, said quietly, "How… brave…"

Yuren hesitated, and then went for the priests, and managed to take Maren out of commission relatively quickly. But he didn't kill her outright, of course. The priests were part of the horde army, after all, and he couldn't just do that.

As Yuren switched his attention to the messenger guy, Lance yelled out in pain and suddenly Yuren spun around and intercepted Liam, who looked like he was about to finish Lance off with his axe. The cat returned to Yuren, but Liam, pushing off Yuren's attack, readied his axe for the final swing.

Felfe saw, out of the corners of his eyes, a shape passing by on his right, quietly entering the scene, unnoticed. The shape stopped so he could see, but far back enough that Liam, who was busy with Lance, wouldn't notice.

Felfe struggled, and managed to turn partway to get a better look. When he did, he had to keep from calling out, which wasn't too difficult because his throat was dryer than Tanaris sand.

Kain stood there, patiently casting a light-based spell, hands flashing with holy light. He finished one heal, barely saving Lance from death, before moving on to heal up Yuren before Liam even had the chance to turn and search for whoever was doing the healing. Kain was good, better than anyone Felfe had ever seen. He chose his healing targets precisely and without hesitation, casted quickly, and unleashed the spells with icy accuracy, eyes narrowed and focused. Yuren and Lance were now restored to full health as Kain began casting once more, this time with a huge circle of light at his feet. It was a longer cast, which made Felfe realize it was probably a resurrection. But who was he…?

Liam backed up, saw Kain, and paled drastically, seemingly out of options. Suddenly, in a burst of white light, the warlock over his shoulder regained life. When he felt her move, he threw her onto the floor, sinking his axe into her shoulder. She cried out, but then steeled herself and threw him an instant shadowbolt, sapping almost all of his remaining health.

Kain had already healed her by the time Liam sank to his knees. The warlock was about to cast something else when Kain yelled to stop. Liam knelt there, panting heavily, and then collapsed onto the ground, not yet dead, but close enough. The warlock rose and dealt him a vindictive kick before standing beside Yuren.

Yuren gave her a clearly disapproving look.

"He _killed_ me. Twice." The warlock muttered furiously.

"Twice." Yuren stated slowly.

"Soulstone." She explained exasperatedly.

Suddenly Felfe shifted, and saw Kain's attention focus on him for the first time. Apparently Kain hadn't noticed him before, because now he glanced at Felfe and his eyes conveyed many things, rage and horror and guilt and shock. And then Felfe saw his eyes dart to something else, behind Felfe's shoulder, and Felfe realized it was probably the bloodied wall.

Kain, without so much as a word, laid his hands on Felfe's shoulders, using the entirety of his mana to heal him fully in an instant. Felfe, though somewhat overwhelmed by the huge leap in his health, felt the flow of blood from his back stopping, the blood drying, and finally the wound sealing up. All of that happened in the space of a few seconds, but it felt like time went slowly, as if to provide for the miraculous change. And then the jello disappeared completely, and he found that he could move again.

He was immediately enveloped in a tight embrace, Kain's arms holding him as well as holding him up. He wasted no time in wrapping his arms around Kain, wordlessly grateful that once again there had been someone to save him, save everyone this time. But at the same time his heart fell through a black abyss, because once again it was his fault, and once again there had been nothing he could do except let others take the beating for him.

"I'm going to have to teach you first aid." Kain whispered to him, dryly but with emotion behind his words that he was unable to hide.

Felfe smiled weakly, and rested his head against Kain's armor, which wasn't all that comfortable, so he then looked back up at Kain, and their eyes connected.

Naturally, in another situation it would have been a great opportunity for a kiss, but at the moment Liam was passed out not far away, Yuren and Lance and the warlock were quite full of the trauma of life-threatening battle, and there were two priests almost unconscious and needing punishment. Actually, Liam needed punishment too, so that made three of them.

And a large group of paladins had just rushed up from a room down the hall, and stepped unceremoniously over the two priests to nearly mob Lance. They were cheering, and patting Lance on the back like they were old buddies. Lance looked positively mystified, but accepted the congratulations with respect for the other paladins. Finally someone bothered to explain, and Yuren couldn't help listening out of curiosity.

"We heard it. Your friend – er, Commander Yuren, told you to bubble hearth." One of the younger paladins gushed emotionally. "And you… you…" And then he promptly dissolved into tears.

Another adoring paladin stepped up and finished the explanation, saying brightly, "And you said you wouldn't leave him."

"It was spectacular." An older paladin nodded approvingly.

"Very. Quite moving." Another chipped in.

"You've got to be the only paladin who'd do that, man." A spiky-haired youngster said in awe. "I know _I_ wouldn't."

"Hear, hear, the only true paladin!" Someone raised the cheer, and others took it up.

"Lancelot, the one true paladin!" "All hail the true paladin!" "May we learn from his guidance!"

Yuren cast Lance a somewhat stunned look, and Lance looked overwhelmed. I mean, sure, he was commander of the Alliance army, and the leader of the Alliance's paladins, but even that wasn't enough, in his mind, to really tell him that he was a good paladin. And now here, a group of blood-elves were telling him he was the only true paladin. Naturally, all this made Lance quite awestruck and very grateful.

He thanked them profusely, but they only chanted more and kept on 'grats'-ing him. Finally Yuren more-or-less broke it up, but they still insisted on holding some sort of party in his honor. Lance agreed because as a paladin he happened to love that sort of pompous occasion, and all the Horde paladins consequently cheered some more, until finally Yuren told them all just to shove off because _he_ wanted a word with Lance.

Meanwhile, the warlock had ensnared Liam with her succubus in order to keep him quiet, though she still looked quite disgusted with him. Kain walked over, Felfe in tow, and looked down at the hunter with loathing.

"I'd heard about his endeavors before, but never did I think he'd actually attack one of our own…" Kain murmured, horrified.

"What was he trying to do?" Felfe asked quietly, still not filled in on the details. Although he could guess, now.

Kain was silent for a moment, and the warlock took the opportunity to explain. "He was probably going to kidnap you and then do horrible things to you."

Felfe frowned, knowing 'horrible things' probably meant more than just… well… like baking a cake and not letting someone have any, only about twenty times worse. But it was probably even worse than that, judging by Liam's previous words involving 'breaking' a 'toy.' But anyway, Felfe really didn't want to think about it.

Kain apparently hadn't known or realized the full truth until just then, or maybe he had been restraining himself until then, because he let go of Felfe to reach down and seize Liam's collar, dragging the hunter up to eye level and successfully breaking the succubus's spell.

"I'm going to ask you some questions, and I'm not going to repeat myself." And then Kain continued in an even quieter tone, so quiet that Felfe couldn't hear. But he could see Liam's face go stark white. The warlock came around Kain to stand beside Felfe, glancing at him and then at the shredded back of his clothing.

She turned to him, glanced at Kain, who was still questioning the terrified betrayer, and then struck up a conversation. "I'm sorry about this."

Felfe's eyes widened. "No, it's not… it was my fault."

She laughed outright before saying, "Of course not! It's Liam's fault, as always."

"Always?" Felfe asked before he could stop himself. "He does this a lot?"

"Not on this scale…" She said hesitantly, suddenly becoming serious. "But it's happened before. This time he won't get off easy, though. But it really is my fault. If I could have gotten the rest of them to stay…"

Felfe vaguely remembered, as if from a year ago, the group of blood-elves that had been there and then left him with Liam and the warlock, and he wondered just why they had left if they knew something like that would happen. "Why did they leave if…?"

"He's got a lot of power, you could say. Everyone knows he's experienced, and no one wants to start the fight first. Starting fights like that is a good way to get yourself into the dungeons. But still…" She sighed, playing with her hair for a moment. "I can't believe they just left like that."

Felfe agreed wordlessly, nodding, and then remembered something. "I still don't even know your name."

"Oh, yeah, that." The warlock said, rolling her eyes. "It's… Melinda."

"Melinda? That's a nice name." Felfe said pleasantly.

"Not if you're a warlock it isn't." She scowled, but seemed to quiet herself, as if she had said the same thing many times and was used to it.

Felfe said nothing, awkward, but there was still that need to say something, especially to thank her. After all, she had protected him without much of a motivation, which… speaking of which, why had she bothered when none of the others had?

Felfe hesitated for a moment before asking, "Why were you protecting me?"

She smiled at him in a way that probably would have looked pleasant on a human but ended up looking devastatingly seductive on a blood-elf, like most expressions. "We're all supposed to protect you, as per the code. You're one of our important people, I guess you could say. Except the others can mainly protect themselves, which makes it more necessary to protect _you_."

"But then…" Felfe began uncertainly. "Why only you?"

"We-ell…" She folded her arms sheepishly. "I guess you could say I'm just like that. I save people, it's what I do."

"You save people?" Felfe echoed curiously. "Like, anyone?"

"That's the theory." She shrugged. "I just have this higher sense of good, ya know? If I see someone in trouble, I just can't walk away."

Felfe nodded, but thought it was strange for a warlock to be saving people.

"Of course," Melinda went on. "Warlocks aren't especially good at that sort of thing, but I try."

"So you saved me because you save everyone?" Felfe wondered aloud, feeling a bit slighted by the idea that he was just another helpless person being saved.

"Partly. But of course there's also the code." She explained. "And I kinda liked you from the start. You're so… well…"

"Delicate. The word you want is delicate." Yuren cut in, having finished talking to Lance.

Felfe frowned. He really was starting to hate that word.

"I'm sure you're getting better." Lance interrupted encouragingly, giving Felfe a manly slap on the back, which if Felfe had still been injured would have floored him. "I've heard Kain is training you."

Felfe wondered why Lance was suddenly referring to Kain by name, and not looking at all annoyed about it. "Well… yes…"

And then suddenly they were interrupted by a growl. And then the sound of someone hitting a wall.

"Damn." Yuren said simply.

Kain had thrown Liam against the wall, where he sat, looking up mutinously but not attempting to move.

"And that was it, was it?" Kain asked audibly, in a very dangerous tone that Felfe had rarely heard him use. "That's it?"

"What more do you wanna hear?" Liam bit off snidely. "Just send me off to the dungeons, will you?"

Kain stepped closer to the traitor, and unsheathed Thunderfury from his back. Lance took a step back, stunned, and Yuren started forward uncertainly.

"With all due respect, Lord Kain, you can't just _kill_ him." Yuren stated very cautiously, very much unlike his usual tone.

Kain didn't even glance back at them as he hefted the large sword threateningly. In fact, he paid them no attention whatsoever as he advanced on Liam, sword at the ready.

"You think you can stop this by killing me?" Liam asked, terrified at the prospect but still trying to maintain a bit of himself. "You know I'm not the only one, you'll never be safe. Everyone knows tha-"

Kain had seized Liam by the throat with the hand he wasn't holding Thunderfury in, and leaned close to whisper something else to the prisoner.

The warlock looked conflicted, hungry for justice but bewildered as to the morality of simply killing Liam outright. Yuren was still edging forward, perhaps so that he could somehow stop Kain if he went out-of-control. Lance started to go forward as well, as if he could do something.

Felfe, unfortunately for the careful tact of the rest of them, abandoned pretence and ran forward until he was closer to Kain than anyone else, almost close enough to touch.

Kain sighed, still holding the hunter against the wall, and didn't turn to look at Felfe. But it was plain that he knew he was there. "Felfe, what are you doing?"

"You don't have to kill him…" Felfe said nervously. "I mean, it wasn't like he was going to kill me."

"As good as." Kain said, voice hardened, grip tightening on his victim's throat.

Felfe fidgeted before saying quickly, "J-just send him to the dungeons or… or…"

Kain's hand, the one on Thunderfury, twitched dangerously.

"Just l-let someone else take care of it!" Felfe squeaked, and Kain hesitated, looking straight into Liam's eyes. Liam looked back for only an instant before shutting his eyes tightly, unable to look full-on at the fury that was Kain.

"Let the guy kill me…" Liam gasped. "Makes 'im feel… powerful… yeah?"

For some reason that sentence spurred Felfe to action like nothing else, because above all the person threatened was now saying that it was okay to throw his life away, and that was just stupid.

"Muffins! You can't say that!" Felfe shouted, and took a hold on the part of Thunderfury's hilt that Kain's hand wasn't covering.

Kain, stunned, looked down to see Felfe attempting to yank Thunderfury out of his grip.

Yuren's jaw dropped, in fact it fell from his whole mouth, and he had to bend down and pick it up before securing it back in. Lance, on the other hand, was so surprised by Felfe's sudden boldness that he hadn't even the time to be slightly disgusted by Yuren's jaw falling out. Melinda looked inspired.

"What are you doing? He was trying to kill you!" Kain hissed. Felfe's nerve lessened for a moment, because he couldn't recall Kain ever being outright _angry _at him before, but he bolstered his strength and tugged at Thunderfury with both hands, forcing Kain to yank back at it.

But Kain's strength was much greater than Felfe's, so Felfe ended up half-flying into Kain with the force of the pull, though still gripping Thunderfury tightly. It must have looked odd, Kain holding Liam against the wall with one hand while clutching Thunderfury in the other, with Felfe falling against him on that side.

Kain's eyes softened for a moment as Felfe fell into him, seemingly affected by their closeness in a way so many dramatic scenes fail to explain. "What do you want me to do?" He muttered.

"Let him go. Have someone else take him to the dungeon." Felfe more-or-less demanded, and then wondered where he had gotten the nerve to demand something, much less from Kain. An almost angry Kain.

Kain looked like he very much wanted to simply strangle Liam and be done with it, but he slowly released the hunter from his grip, letting him slide down the wall clutching his aching throat. Kain then turned to Felfe, and leaned forward as if to kiss him, but instead rested his forehead against Felfe's, whispering, "You're too kind, it will cause you trouble one day."

Felfe smiled, and took the opportunity of Kain's relaxing to yank Thunderfury out of his hand. Lance clapped appreciatively as Kain stared down at his huge sword, which Felfe was now attempting to lift with both hands, and failing. The blade was now resting against the floor, because it was too heavy for him to even wield.

Kain shot Lance an irritated look, and Lance stopped clapping, although he still looked proud. Yuren shook his head in bewilderment before stepping forward to haul Liam to his feet, gesturing to Lance. Lance came over and Yuren threw the hunter unceremoniously over Lance's shoulder, much as Melinda had been tossed over Liam's sometime earlier that day. Melinda grimaced knowingly.

Kain looked down at Felfe, his expression a mixture of fondness, exasperation, and slight annoyance that he had let the night-elf take Thunderfury from him. But it didn't really matter, since Felfe couldn't lift it.

Kain gently placed a hand over Felfe's on the hilt, and helped him lift it a good distance off the ground.

"You should be able to hold it with one hand, eventually." He said quietly.

Felfe looked back at Kain, smiling.

And then there were hurried footsteps, and Felfe gave Thunderfury back to Kain as someone came running up.

"Kain! Felfe!" Silya gasped, half-collapsing. Kain ran over to her, but she waved him off with an 'I'm fine' and tried to regain her breath.

Felfe went over to her, already feeling horrible for having ruined her party. "Silya…"

Silya had managed to get up, and she wrapped her arms around Felfe, squeezing him so tightly it reminded him of the way his mother used to hug him. Felfe awkwardly patted her on the back, having nothing else to do, and finally she let go of him, but still clutched his shoulders, looking teary-eyed.

"You okay?" She asked quietly.

"Are you?" Felfe asked back worriedly, taking out a handkerchief and handing it to her. She laughed weakly, taking it gratefully, and looked back at him with something akin to sympathy.

"You didn't even make it to the ball, did you?" She lamented, but laughed oddly after she said it. "I don't suppose it matters, though. What a silly thing to worry about now."

"Are you all right?" Felfe persisted, watching her keep on crying. I mean, it had happened to him, and he wasn't crying. Although he would have liked to, and if she kept up he felt he might have to as well.

"O-of course!" She said, but her voice was strangely high-pitched.

Felfe looked up at Kain concernedly, but Kain only folded his arms and said nothing. And that's when they heard Yuren, over by the priests, exclaim.

"It _is _the messenger guy!"

Kain turned around and again looked irritated and serious, stalking over to the two lower-level priests. Felfe walked behind Kain, wondering if he was going to have to stop him from overreacting again.

"You two, dungeons." He barked commandingly, and Yuren nodded, hefting Maren over his shoulder despite her frantic complaints of her dignity being sacrificed. He then dragged the messenger guy by the arm, and he and Lance started down the hall, three prisoners in tow.

"They're going to the dungeons, too?" Felfe asked, wondering if their punishment would be the same as Liam, who was of course the main perpetrator here. But Felfe didn't think 'perpetrator,' he thought 'bad guy.'

"Yes, but only for a few days. Just a little taste for them." Kain explained wearily.

Felfe, hearing nothing from Silya, looked back to see her in the same place as before, still crying on and off. He started for her just as someone else came padding down the hall in their direction.

Kain stiffened as the woman came into view, and Felfe froze, about to pat Silya comfortingly on the shoulder.

The blood-elf woman was painfully beautiful, shoulder-length black curls glistening despite the lack of lighting – it was getting late, after all. And her eyes, they glowed bright green as emeralds in the fading light, capturing anyone and everyone in their deep pools. She walked with a grace that seemed effortless, natural, to her slight frame, which was perfect in every way. Every curve, every line of her body was perfect, down to her very toes. As she walked her hips swayed just so, her curls bounced slightly, her lips parted just a little, as if she were about to say something. It was enough to make any straight man drool, and then faint.

Fortunately, there were no straight men in the room.

"Alyane!" Felfe said loudly, not having heard of the warlock's 'encounter' with Silya. Kain, knowing all too well, held back a wince.

As soon as Felfe said that, Silya stiffened, and began to shake uncontrollably. Felfe had no idea as to the reason, so he abandoned what might have been a pleasant conversation with Alyane to comfort poor Silya.

Kain, meanwhile, narrowed his eyes slightly, and went forward to stand in front, or rather, in back of Silya, who had not turned around yet, and was still facing away from Alyane.

"The guards had orders to keep you out." He said flatly.

"Did they?" Alyane asked innocently, tapping her lips with a slim finger, nails manicured bright red, flawless and unchipped, like whole cherries.

"What is your excuse for coming here?" Kain demanded, arms folded in a very unfriendly way.

Felfe, naturally, had no idea what the unfriendliness was for, but kept quiet for the moment because he felt again that he had no idea what was going on.

"I wish to speak with Silya." Alyane said smoothly, and Silya suddenly flushed, and buried her head in her hands.

"That is not an excuse, but an incriminating confession." Kain said, appearing bored but sounding serious yet again.

"Surely you will permit me to simply speak with her." Alyane persisted, tone a perfect blend of suggestion and pleasantness not betraying the threat she was getting from Kain.

Felfe came up beside Kain, now, wondering for the millionth time what was happening that he didn't understand. But he sure could guess. "Why do you want to talk to her?"

Kain glanced at Felfe and sighed. "Do not bother, I will have the guards take care of her."

"You're going to kill her, too?" Felfe said incredulously.

"Too?" Alyane echoed, eyebrows raised. But even that made her look gloriously beautiful. "You've been killing people at this party?"

"It was hardcore, man!" A passing undead said randomly, overhearing just that bit of the conversation before walking past them.

Awkward silence followed before Kain clarified. "You're not entitled to that information."

"So why _do _you want to talk to her?" Felfe asked abruptly, once again.

Alyane looked a Felfe fondly, which he couldn't understand, and then said sweetly, "I wanted to apologize to her."

Silya rose shakily, and Kain half-turned to pretend he wasn't watching over her. Alyane saw and smiled. Felfe looked at Alyane in confusion.

"Apologize for what?" He asked, and for some reason noted that he and Alyane were exactly the same height. In fact, they were exactly at eye level, which he thought was quite interesting because most humans and elves were at least a little taller than him. Well, except Silya…

"I'm afraid I may have said some… harsh words." Alyane began slowly, cautiously. "I wish to take them back."

Silya turned and fixed Alyane with a blatantly fiery glare, as if she was about to start charging a fireball. "You _liar_."

Alyane raised an eyebrow but stood still, perhaps prepared to sacrifice her nonexistent voidwalker in the case of a battle. Silya pushed Kain aside roughly and came to stand in front of Alyane, seething. She looked like she wanted to straight-out pyroblast Alyane, and her fingers kept twitching.

Felfe stepped back to stand beside Kain, worried but feeling as if he didn't have much of a right to intrude on what looked like the beginning of a cat fight. Although it wouldn't be a true cat fight, like when female night-elf druids get angry at each other. _That_ is worth watching.

Silya suddenly frost shielded herself, and then froze Alyane in place. She was about to run back and start another spell, but Alyane reached out and seized her by the collar, preventing her from moving rather ingeniously. Silya made an infuriated noise as she was pulled closer to Alyane, whose legs were still frozen in place.

"Let… go!" Silya screeched, but Alyane only smiled darkly as she tightened her hold on her victim. But she wasn't attacking. She could have easily thrown a few DoT's on for good measure, but she hadn't even done that. She was simply biding her time, it looked like, and waiting for the frost to melt. Silya, while quite annoyed that she couldn't concentrate enough to cast, was at least thankful her frost shield was still up.

And then Alyane revealed her ingenious plan, yanking Silya to her and AHHHH CAN'T WRITE THIS!!!

Felfe gasped. Kain growled and made as if to step forward, but Felfe grabbed ahold of his arm and stopped him, shaking his head. This was Silya's… battle? Yes, battle. In fact, Felfe felt very much that he and Kain should simply walk out and leave the two alone, but didn't dare suggest it for fear of making Kain angry. Kain was really quite protective of Silya, even if he tried not to act like it.

Meanwhile, Alyane had… finished… her interesting 'attack' and was looking very smug. She had succeeded in melting the frost shield, and also apparently in melting Silya, who more-or-less sank to her knees in defeat. It was quite obvious that Alyane, standing there proudly and unharmed, had won this match.

Silya got up, brushed her robes off, and folded her arms, shaking her head as if to clear her thoughts. And then she locked eyes with Alyane, bit her lip nervously, and made as if to run for her life.

But Alyane had other plans, and once again reached out faster than a priest's blue laser of doom to grab Silya's arm, and haul her back in front of her.

"Now, now, why the rush?" Alyane scolded mockingly, beautiful eyes narrowed slightly, making her look even more irresistible than usual. "We still haven't had our chat."

Silya shuddered, and struggled, but to no avail. So she turned her gaze back to Alyane, eyes full of fire and shame. "Unhand me!"

"All I desire is a small portion of you time, and then I will leave. Is that so difficult for you?" Alyane said, the last sentence honeyed and almost pleading, but in an obviously-staged way. She and the messenger guy would have gotten along nicely, if the messenger guy wasn't currently in the dungeons.

"Fine." Silya bit out, letting down her guard a little and trying to brush off Alyane's hand.

Alyane didn't let go, so Silya more-or-less walked to the nearest sitting room with Alyane in tow, scowling. As they went in, Kain hesitated, clearly wanting to follow to ensure his sister's safety. But Felfe shook his head and sighed.

"It's her business." Kain stated unnecessarily, as if to convince himself. Felfe knew it was unnecessary, but nodded anyway, to make Kain feel better.

The two of them then went off to the ballroom at last, though with an awkward air, because so many things had happened that day, and none of them were things that they had thought would happen.

Felfe had envisioned a night of relaxing in a huge ballroom, talking calmly to Kain, Silya, Guanji, Yuren, or Lance, and generally just having a good time. And he had been quite curious as to what delicious foods might be served at such an extravagant party as a blood-elf ball was rumored to be.

Instead, Felfe had ended up running for his life, nearly kidnapped, mortally wounded, and emotionally injured (this happened several times). And he felt quite strange walking beside Kain, remembering all that had happened, and all that hadn't. It would have been a good time to get to know him better, being that a ball usually meant a lot of free time for talking.

"Kain," Felfe began timidly. Kain turned his gaze to Felfe as they continued walking to the ballroom.

"Yes?" Kain asked after a moment where Felfe didn't say anything.

"I just wondered…" Felfe said cautiously. "Do you think there's still… food left?"

Kain looked astonished for a moment, and then he smirked, the low-degree smirk of course. "Of course. And even if there wasn't, I'm sure Yuren wouldn't mind making more."

Although Kain remembered the events of that morning and thought perhaps Yuren would indeed mind. But he didn't bother mentioning that to Felfe, who was now looking a bit happier.

Neither of them thought Silya was in any real danger, and hence nearly forgot about her completely.

* * *

Silya bit her lip nervously again, settling into a ruby-red armchair opposite Alyane, who had done the same. "What is this about?" 

"I think you may have some idea." Alyane began cordially. "It has to do with your earlier request."

"And?" Silya folded her arms tightly, as if to ward off cold, but it was really to ward off Alyane. Alyane and her… tricks.

"And I believe you might be the one." Alyane said slowly, drawing the sentence out in order to emphasize its importance.

"The one?" Silya asked skeptically. "What the hell?"

Alyane narrowed her eyes at the rather rough language, but continued with a precise explanation. "Yes. The one."

"What do you mean?" Silya demanded, now chewing her lip anxiously. Normally that would have made a human look… well, I think you get the point.

"You could be my apprentice after all, if you so wish." Alyane stated frankly, telling Silya exactly what she wanted to know.

"If you're tricking me…" Silya said threateningly, eyes burning into Alyane's before she got ahold of herself and looked away in humiliation. She really didn't want anyone to say she had actually looked at Alyane with 'burning eyes' lest they get the wrong idea.

"Of course not." Alyane said airily. "I need an apprentice, I haven't found one. You're the answer."

"I thought you said you had one in mind." Silya's eyes narrowed even more. "You said that, didn't you?"

"It appears I was mistaken. For the time being, that person cannot measure up to my standards. In a manner of speaking." Alyane explained boredly. "It was simply their potential I had assessed, but unfortunately I underestimated the rate at which that potential would grow."

"And I can?" Silya asked suspiciously. "What made you change your mind?"

"When we last met, I lied to you. For that I apologize." Alyane said, sounding at least half-sincere, which was better than nothing. "I told you… you did not have the gift. I lied."

"So you'll train me?" Silya said, more to herself than Alyane.

"Yes. If you so wish." Alyane nodded, eyes slowly meeting Silya's again as the other blood-elf looked up at last.

Silya felt her mouth go slightly dry, and she nodded uncertainly. "When… does the training start?"

"As soon as possible. Tomorrow, if that is all right with you." Alyane said hastily but smoothly, clearly having planned out her words beforehand.

"Fine." Silya agreed, rising from her chair and walking to the door. Alyane rose and followed behind her, and just as Silya rested her hand on the doorknob, rested _her _hand on Silya's shoulder. Silya turned automatically, causing Alyane's hand to retreat.

"Yes?" Silya asked, eyes narrowing again.

Alyane smiled sweetly. "I think we should be on better terms if I am to teach you."

"What are you suggesting?" Silya said in a faked-casual tone, straightening her hair-tie self-consciously.

Alyane stepped a bit closer, and sighed when Silya backed away hastily.

"Listen…" Alyane said, deadly quiet. "Why can't we be _friends_?"

Silya blinked, and then hesitated, folding her arms again. Friends? With Alyane? Was that even possible, to be friends with someone like _that_? "What do you mean?"

"You detest me, that much is obvious." Alyane said candidly. "And for what? Because there are some things one _should not do_ that you have done?"

Silya flushed, and retorted, "That's… that's not…"

"You need not worry about such things." Alyane said with some small sympathy. "It matters not, and worrying will only cause you to fall into more such situations, which I'm sure would not please you."

Silya fidgeted, and Alyane moved forward again.

"Or would it?" Alyane asked in a measured tone.

"No!" Silya countered hotly. "What do you think I am!?"

"What?" Alyane raised an eyebrow. "I believe you are my apprentice, that is 'what' you are. Nothing more, nothing less. And you are, of course, Kain's sister. Silya."

Silya decided she didn't like Alyane saying her name, but hesitated in saying so due to obvious reasons. "All right. I'll try to… be… nicer."

"There. That wasn't so difficult, was it?" Alyane said smoothly, a voice like honey.

Silya nodded slowly, and then a nasty, awkward silence grew. The silence waxed and waned, and finally vanished as Silya once again twisted the doorknob. This time, though, she was not stopped, and she opened the door.

"I will see you tomorrow in Silvermoon, at the main entrance." Alyane instructed as they exited the room.

"When?" Silya asked, trying to sound nicer.

"After lunch." Alyane answered, and turned back to Silya for a moment.

Silya watched as Alyane came up to her, reached out a hand, and caressed her face slowly, expression calculating. Silya almost stepped back just out of reflex, but stayed still, wondering what point there was to such an action.

Alyane's hand withdrew, and she looked thoughtful. "What do you use on your face?"

Silya blinked. "I wash it twice a day, and at night I rub in mana crystals until they dissolve."

"My, what an interesting method." Alyane said absently before nodding and dismissing the subject. "Well, I shall see you tomorrow."

She waved in a way that can only be described as the most dignified wave ever seen, and then walked down the hall and past the ballroom, towards the mansion's front doors.

Silya sighed, wondering what exactly she was getting herself into, and then figuring that it wouldn't matter anyway. In a thousand years, no one would remember. It wasn't like everyone spent their time gossiping about what Kael and Kain had been doing a thousand years ago. Well, actually, yes. They still did. But that wasn't the point…

* * *

Felfe entered the ballroom beside Kain this time, and without the danger of the swinging door. As they walked in, Felfe realized he hadn't had the time to actually look at all of it from the inside. It really was spectacular. Silya had done a wonderful job with all of the decorating, if indeed she had organized it herself, which Felfe largely suspected. It was red, gold, and white all over of course, but somehow she had managed to make it look tasteful, and a refreshing change from the usual arrangement of said colors. 

In fact, the whole room was made even more awe-inspiring by its spaciousness, and the fact that Felfe and Kain were the only ones there. Which was quite sad, actually, because that meant Felfe had basically missed the entire event because he was in the process of running from a semi-psychotic blood-elf out to kidnap and eventually kill him. What a shame.

Kain noticed Felfe's slight sadness, perhaps because it was obvious, and took him by the shoulders and turned him so that they were facing each other. "It's my fault."

"What?" Felfe frowned, and then thought perhaps it had been a joke, and he should have laughed. So then he looked halfway between frown and smile, a sort of wavering confusion.

"If I had been down here earlier, I could have attended to you myself, and Liam never would have had the chance…" Kain trailed off, before adding darkly. "It would have been much better if he hadn't."

Kain sighed, his hands tightening on Felfe's shoulders. Felfe frowned again, and suddenly wondered why Kain hadn't been there earlier, when he entered the ballroom briefly before being hit by the door. Now that he thought about it, he had expected Kain to be there the entire time. And then later, even Yuren didn't seem to have any idea where he was. It occurred to Felfe to wonder _why_ Kain hadn't been at the party earlier.

"Well, it's okay." Felfe said hesitantly, awkward because of Kain's continued close presence and the hands on his shoulders. "Where… where were you?"

Kain seemed to be having great difficulty restraining himself from showing emotion, or paling, or something, because he gripped Felfe's shoulders even more tightly, as if his sole purpose in holding onto Felfe was to let stress out, like Felfe was some teddy bear. Felfe was almost afraid to look straight into Kain's eyes at that moment, because he could even _feel _that Kain was somehow going through a lot of emotions at once, and he didn't want to see that. It was like intruding, because Kain never let down his guard around anyone else, and Felfe still didn't feel like he deserved it.

But Felfe did look up, and Felfe did see Kain's emotions whirling through his eyes like a catastrophic tornado of doubt, pain, and all sorts of horrible things that were far beyond simple disappointments like accidentally vendoring a quest reward you might have needed (Felfe, unfortunately, knew nothing of buyback).

"You okay?" Felfe asked unnecessarily, and even he knew it was unnecessary, but he asked it anyway because he didn't know what else to say.

Kain's grip loosened for a moment, like he had just realized that he might have been bruising Felfe's shoulders, and he shook his head wearily. "This… has been a long day."

"Yeah." Felfe agreed, but it was in a sort of 'well yeah, everyone knows that' tone that revealed a hint of surprise that Kain would explain himself with something that didn't even really make sense. I mean, Kain hadn't even been there for most of it. If anything, Felfe should have been more overwhelmed by all of it.

Kain looked as if he was going to say something in clarification, but didn't. And then he released Felfe, instead taking his hand gently and leading him out to the center of the room.

Felfe thought for a moment that Kain was going to ask him for a dance, and his heartbeat quickened slightly at the idea.

Kain looked down at Felfe, smiled, and said, "Luckily for us, there seems to be food left."

Felfe's visions of dancing scurried away in humiliation, leaving a wake of disappointment, but fortunately Felfe liked the idea of food nearly as much, or so he told himself. Well, if there was dessert, that is.

They went over to the large table that earlier had probably been laden with all sorts of wonderful things, and was now looking much happier now that its load had lessened over the course of the day. But there were still some dishes left, ones that had been extra plates of a dish that was elsewhere, or just foods that most blood-elves didn't care for, and even some foods that Felfe figured were still there because people just didn't want to be seen eating them due to the awkwardness (these were things like the Ogri'la chicken fingers, which while most likely delicious were usually eaten with one's hands, and afterwards one's hands would probably be very greasy and disgusting and probably bad for dancing). Regardless, there was still food left, and Felfe went about looking over all of it, wondering what to sample first.

Despite his concentration on the food, though, Felfe couldn't help noticing that Kain was looking over it all with interest just like he was. Had Kain really not even been to the party, like Felfe? Why… it didn't even make sense…!

Felfe, naturally, was a bit confused and worried about what kind of reason Kain could have for missing his sister's ball, which he had quite plainly invited Felfe to in the first place. Not to mention Silya should have been upset at him, but earlier she didn't say a thing. Did Silya know the reasoning behind it? Did everyone? But then, Guanji hadn't, because he had insisted on looking for Kain. And that meant Yuren and Lance couldn't have either. Although, they never had answered Guanji when he asked that, so maybe they had known, too.

Felfe tried not to frown as he continued browsing the foods, and finally took a huge Ogri'la chicken finger onto his plate. After that, he took some of something he didn't know the name of (some type of blood-elf dish that involved pasta, brazed mana wyrm, and a whole lot of seasoning). He had heard, somewhere, that this pasta had quite a bite to it, perhaps because of the mana still dormant in the mana wyrm. But of course, that was probably just speculation and not at all true.

It didn't occur to Felfe to wonder what would happen if indeed the mana wyrm pasta did have pure mana in it. Normally it would have been fine for mana-using classes, but there had been that time when Felfe had been given a mana potion by Kain, and consequently fell fast asleep. But Felfe wasn't thinking of such things, being more concerned with Kain at the present.

Kain, obviously, was too concerned with himself at the present, so he too forgot the possible effects of mana. Or maybe the mana wyrm pasta didn't even have mana in it, and there was no reason to worry at all. Although neither were worrying, so that probably didn't matter in the least.

Felfe gave the table a last look-over, and set his plate down at one of the smaller tables surrounding the main one. He glanced back at Kain, but Kain was still looking at the food, so Felfe took it upon himself to start eating without him. He stared at the rather intimidating chicken fingers (which were closer to the size of arms, and had been cut in fourths, so Felfe's portion was a bit larger than a hand), before deciding to start on the pasta first.

Kain sat down across from him as he was about halfway through the pasta, and wasted no time in consuming his own plate of pasta.

A minute or two went by unnoticed, and then Felfe, reaching down with his fork to twirl more pasta onto it, paused. And he paused for a long time, fork in midair, mouth slightly open, staring into space (more specifically, the space above Kain's left shoulder).

Naturally, Kain took this to mean there was some horrible monster behind his left shoulder, and rose from his seat hastily to glance in said direction. But there was nothing. Not even a mouse. Which wouldn't have been visible from Felfe's position anyway, not if he had been looking over Kain's shoulder. Unless it was a _really big mouse_.

So Kain sat back down, and looked back at Felfe, frowning when Felfe gave no reaction. "Felfe, are you all right?"

His words seemed to bring back Felfe, because the next moment Felfe blinked and dropped his fork straight into the pasta. "Huh…?"

Kain took in Felfe's half-closed eyes, his sudden blankness, and came to an interesting conclusion: There really was dormant mana in mana wyrm pasta. This should have been quite the revelation, being that one wouldn't expect mana to remain after the subject had been cooked, as the mana wyrm had. Perhaps, if one were to look at the biological background of the mana wyrm itself, one could conclude what sort of property of the mana wyrm could cause such strong attachment to the mana, and then one might go and write a horribly long, horribly dry essay on it to impress others, and then one might even win a quite wonderful award for it…

Felfe had just leaned over, and slowly fell face-first into the plate of pasta. With the chicken 'hand' on one side of it. Kain hurriedly got up and lifted Felfe off of the plate, holding him by the shoulders and wincing at the remains of pasta and the grease from the chicken finger that were visible on the night-elf's unconscious face.

Without even thinking he began to lick Felfe's cheek clean with practiced, efficient strokes of his tongue. Unfortunately, this worked quite well to revive Felfe, at least temporarily, from the effects of the mana.

"… Kain? What are…" Felfe muttered slowly before trailing off, eyes still half-lidded due to the mana-induced state of sleepiness that was upon him.

Kain immediately paused, realizing what he was doing, and withdrew slightly to grasp around the table for a cloth, which he used to wipe the rest of Felfe's face off with. But he had to admit to himself that it didn't work near as well as the classic blood-elf approach. Really, it didn't. And it wasn't near as satisfying.

"What's… I'm so…" Felfe yawned suddenly, surprising himself.

And then their eyes met, and although Felfe felt like he about to doze off he still felt it, the connection, that feeling that meant something he couldn't understand. His heart was probably beating quickly, like an injured butterfly, but he didn't rightly know, because he was half-asleep and couldn't really feel it much. But it still felt like something was supposed to happen.

Kain plainly knew what was supposed to happen, and he smiled faintly at Felfe, wondering if the night-elf was even able to think at the moment. It seemed just a bit unfair to kiss him like that, half-asleep and vulnerable, and Kain hazily recalled a time a long time ago that he had made a similar (albeit much worse) mistake and ended up being 'just friends' for a while. Which made him frown slightly, wondering if this situation counted for the same thing.

Felfe blinked, and then blinked again, trying to get his eyes to stay open, since after all it felt like Kain was about to do something, and frankly he would rather be awake to experience it. But Kain wasn't doing anything, he was just looking slightly worried.

And then Kain spoke, clearly and slowly, so that even if Felfe was about to pass out he'd probably understand. "I'm going to get you to a bed."

Felfe nodded, eyes trying to close despite his attempts to get them to stay open. "I… can walk."

Because of his limited sight, he didn't notice Kain roll his eyes at the futility of such an idea. But Kain let Felfe 'walk' anyway, which meant Felfe sleepily walking beside Kain, who had an arm tightly around his waist in case he tripped, stumbled, or even just fell asleep on the spot.

They managed to get down the hall like that, and were nearing the guest room quarters when Felfe suddenly stopped, just stopped. He stopped walking, and that made Kain stop walking.

"You… know what?" Felfe said drowsily, his voice quite unlike its usual cheerful, or at least awkwardly polite self. Instead it sounded just… plain.

Kain glanced down at Felfe, wondering what he was trying to say. "Yes?"

"I… think…" Felfe yawned, and then tried to continue. "You're… s…scared…"

"Am I?" Kain asked with some curiosity, smirking high-degree now that Felfe wasn't awake enough to be caught in it. After all, trying to do the low-degree one all the time was like restraining laughter. It just wasn't _healthy_.

"Yeah…" Felfe said with a sigh of weariness. And then he took a step, and another, and then stopped again, and Kain stopped with him. "You… didn't…"

Kain raised an eyebrow, and when Felfe didn't bother to elaborate, asked, "Didn't what?"

Felfe looked back up at Kain before returning his gaze to the ground, perhaps because it was difficult to hold his head up. "Do… something…"

It wasn't a command, but a broken-off part of his earlier explanation, and Kain understood that. But at the same time he didn't understand.

"What was it I didn't do?" Kain asked gently, thinking immediately it had to do with Liam and his late arrival at the battle, when Felfe had already suffered the pain of injury. His hand, on Felfe's waist, held on with renewed vigor.

"You… didn't…" Felfe yawned yet again, and rubbed his eyes sleepily. "Back… there… it was…"

Kain normally would have become annoyed at the lack of full sentences, but with Felfe he always seemed to have an abnormal amount of patience, so he kept attempting to interpret what Felfe was trying to say.

But then he figured perhaps they could talk more when they got Felfe to a bed, so at least if Felfe fell asleep Kain wouldn't have to carry him there. Not that that was a completely bad thing, just… easier if there was a way around it.

"Later." Kain said, more of a suggestion than a demand.

Felfe nodded tiredly, and they continued walking. But then Felfe stopped again, and Kain stopped too, although with a sigh.

"Where… we going?" Felfe inquired abruptly.

Kain blinked before replying, "One of the guest rooms."

"But…" Felfe paused to rub his eyes again. "Your… room is…"

Kain's eyebrows rose very far indeed, and said, "You want me to take you to my room?"

As he awaited an answer from Felfe, he noticed that the night-elf had gone still, and when he came around to look at Felfe from the front, he saw that he had fallen asleep. His eyes were closed in peaceful slumber, and his body was quickly going limp, collapsing into Kain's arms.

It looked like he was going to have to carry him, after all. But where? Did Felfe really want to go to his room? And why? Perhaps it would just be better to take him to a guest room like he'd planned. It would be easier. But Felfe _had _said that, more-or-less, so he could just carry him all the way to his room.

Kain shook his head, knowing he was just drawing out things, and hoisted Felfe into his arms so that he could carry him. Felfe was lighter than you'd expect a male night-elf to be (due to his lack of characteristic night-elf muscles), but even that wasn't light enough that it was downright _easy _to carry him long distances.

* * *

Kain gently set Felfe down on _his _bed and hesitated, wondering if he ought to just sleep beside him or find some other way. After a few moments of useless ideas, he sighed and took out his robe from the wardrobe. And then he paused. Could he really change right there, knowing Felfe was only a short distance away? No, that wouldn't do. 

He padded off quietly to the bathroom, and proceeded to change clothes there for the first time since, well, ever. Finally, comfortable in his usual sleepwear (unlike most blood-elves, he preferred a robe to nothing, fortunately for Felfe), he went back out into the room, and was once again struck by another more-or-less important question.

Was it all right to let Felfe sleep there in full clothes? No, he wasn't trying to convince himself to take them _off_ or anything like that, he was only thinking of Felfe's comfort, and the cleanliness of his sheets.

And then he remembered the events of earlier that day, and rushed over to the bed as noiselessly as possible to quickly turn Felfe onto his side and examine his back. Yes, it was just as he had expected. Though he had of course healed the wound itself, the vest and shirt underneath it had been torn rather badly in the spots where the panther's claws had…

Kain winced. And it only made it worse that the white shirt was quite red in the back, a rusty color now that it had dried. Which made Kain wonder how he hadn't noticed it earlier. Or how Felfe hadn't – didn't it feel a bit breezy?

Regardless, though, he wasn't going to let Felfe sleep in that, I mean, it was still bloodied and everything. That would be just barbaric! But what could he do? He didn't have any clothes in Felfe's size except that one thing – no. That wouldn't do at all. He was saving that for… a different time.

Kain sighed, and then came to the annoying conclusion that he was going to have to sneak out of the room and obtain a set of pajamas from one of the guest rooms a couple halls away. In his robe. Unarmed. Well, maybe going unarmed was a bit dangerous. At least he'd take Thunderfury.

But he was going to be quite the sight, if anyone saw. Which made him sigh.

He took a last glance back at Felfe as he left, hoping the poor night-elf wouldn't wake up by himself and be completely panic-stricken. That could have bad consequences, which Kain told himself to stop thinking of and just go and get the pajamas. So he did.

Walking quietly down the hall, Kain felt quite strange in his red robe, matching slippers, and carrying Thunderfury on his back. He'd never really done anything like this, being that usually once he changed for the night he had the tendency to stay in his room. He wasn't the type for late-night snacks, nor was he apt to take long, moonlit walks on the outside balconies. He suspected that was more Felfe's thing. Or Yuren, since there had been one time he had returned late from Silvermoon to find the undead warrior skulking around there, looking tired.

He still wondered what Yuren's reason for that had been, but had never bothered to ask. But it didn't really matter anyway, because Kain was into the second hall, and now just had to find a room to steal – er, borrow – a set of pajamas from. It couldn't be stealing, actually, because everything in the mansion basically belonged to him, unless it was something of Silya's, and those things he didn't really want anyway. That ridiculous pink basket cover… pfft.

He paused, wondering if it really mattered which room he chose. After all, there weren't any guests that were staying the night, so all the rooms would be empty. He shrugged, thankful that no one was there to see him make such a casual gesture, and took out Thunderfury from its sheath.

He stood the sword, point down, on the marble for a moment before letting go of it completely. It fell with a softer noise than he would have expected, and ended up pointing more-or-less to one of the rooms down the hall on his left. He nodded, satisfied, and sheathed it again.

It only took a short time to reach the door, and Kain was secretly proud of himself for succeeding in his little adventure. Though of course he'd never tell anyone of it. He then grasped the doorknob and turned it, opening the door and walking into the room.

And then he froze. Well, not literally, but as good as.

"And then they made me their chief." Yuren explained casually, continuing as if telling a story.

"Really?" Asked Lance, breaking off another piece of an Ogri'la chicken finger and popping it into his mouth.

"_No_. That was when I-" Yuren glanced to the doorway, nodded respectfully (as if) to Kain, and poked Lance with a bony finger.

"Oh." Lance said in surprise, turning to see their visitor. Or trespasser, in a manner of speaking. "Hello."

Kain nodded back, and then realized he hadn't a plausible excuse for barging into their room in his fluffy slippers with Thunderfury strapped to his back. Well, the slippers weren't actually fluffy, so that can be dismissed.

"Is something wrong?" Lance asked mildly, eyeing Kain's odd choice of clothing and weapon. "Liam's after _you_ now, is he?"

Kain snorted derisively before suddenly turning serious, his smirk turning into a frown. "You say that as if he-"

"Escaped? Well, it wasn't _my_ fault." Yuren rolled his eyes. "He faked death, and some _idiot _actually fell for it. Oldest trick in the book. Absolutely pathetic."

"He escaped? When!?" Kain snarled, hand inching towards Thunderfury even though Liam was probably far, far away at the moment.

"Oh, maybe a couple hours after we left him there." Yuren said blandly. "If I had thought the guards were complete _oafs_, I would have gotten the Impossibles to do it."

"The Impossibles?" Lance suddenly interrupted. "You don't mean…?"

Yuren snorted at Lance's abrupt disbelief. "Yes. The Impossibles – blood-elf warrior, tauren paladin, troll druid, undead shaman, orc priest."

"Just like ours." Lance said curiously. "Interesting."

Meanwhile, Kain was fuming. "And I suppose he hasn't been located?"

"Most definitely not." Yuren said sarcastically. "It's a mystery to everyone."

"That means 'no.'" Lance provided helpfully.

Yuren took the opportunity to whack Lance on the head with a nearby pillow before resuming his bad news.

"By the way," He began flatly. "The messenger guy got out on 'annoying behavior.' And the priest girl somehow managed to bribe one of the guards to let her go. I'm not going to say exactly how, as I don't feel like ruining my appetite for the night."

"Despicable…" Kain growled. And then he shuffled irritably, as if unsure what to do about all of it.

Yuren continued eating bits of the Talbuk steak salad while Lance slowly but surely ate his way through the Ogri'la chicken.

Kain sighed heavily, stalked into the room, opened one of the wardrobes, pulled out a pair of men's pajamas in the smallest size there was, and stormed out of the room, shutting the door behind him without so much as a 'by your leave.' But at least he didn't slam it, as blood-elves tended to do when enraged. Like enraged boars. But not half as pretty. As the boars? Er, as the blood-elves.

"Was that really necessary?" Lance asked disapprovingly, staring at the back of the door with slight guilt.

"No, but it was worth it." Yuren snickered. "And Felfe's still here, which means _someone _is going to be very overprotective of him tonight."

"How do you know that?" Lance asked, stunned. He and Yuren hadn't seen Felfe since earlier. Yuren hadn't talked to anyone besides Lance since earlier. How in the world could Yuren have known that Felfe was still here?

"Idiot." Yuren said, more teasing than outright insulting. "Didn't you see Kain pick out that pair of pajamas?"

"Ah." Lance said, finally understanding. "But couldn't they have been for someone else?"

"_Lance,_" Yuren said slowly, as if talking to a little kid. "Is there anyone _besides Felfe_ Kain would bother running all the way here to get pajamas for?"

Lance nodded distractedly, rather liking the way Yuren had stressed his name when he said it. Although it wasn't for a good reason.

Yuren, seeing Lance's obvious absentness, sighed and took another piece of the talbuk steak before picking up where he left off. "So anyway, that was when I ran. And I kept running for a long time, until I couldn't hear the sounds of their stupid war drums."

Lance perked up, chewing the chicken with interest as he listened to Yuren continue the story. Surprisingly, the undead made a fantastic story-teller, because whenever you thought something was especially interesting, he'd look at you with exasperation and go back and tell you he'd made it up. And it was all very suspenseful.

* * *

Kain arrived back at his room quite anxious due to Yuren's lies, and was greatly relieved to see Felfe still laying there on the bed, fast asleep. Now came the difficult part. He turned, locked the doors, and turned back to Felfe. After putting Thunderfury away and depositing his slippers on the floor, he went to the bed, slowly crawled onto it, and sat there, wondering exactly how he was going to do this. Obviously he was going to have to undress Felfe, which of course he hadn't planned on doing until… well… such a time as it would have been necessary. But now it had become necessary, and he was more worried that Felfe didn't wake up at a bad time and get the wrong idea, because that would certainly mean a temporary end to their relationship, and such rejection really would have damaged him. After all, he was getting used to things like that happening, and he really ought not to. 

He sighed, and without further ado leaned over to start unbuttoning Felfe's vest. He was quite good at it, too, because of the great amount of experience he had accumulated over the years with such things. He soon finished with the vest, slid it off of Felfe, and took the time to fold it more-or-less neatly and set it on the end-table beside the bed. Then he began the more tricky part, which was unbuttoning Felfe's shirt. It went quickly, and it wasn't like the buttons were difficult to undo. But with every button he loosened, he saw more skin, though he wasn't trying to. Finally he had reached the second-to-last button and was trying very hard to ignore Felfe's half-revealed chest when something he hadn't really anticipated happened.

Felfe shifted suddenly, throwing him slightly off-balance as he was holding onto the shirt. He ended up still a good distance away from Felfe's face, thankfully, but he was now in a position that was more above Felfe than beside him. And the button in his hand had become undone, leaving just one left. As Felfe stirred, eyes fluttering open, Kain hurriedly undid the last button on impulse.

"Kain…?" Felfe murmured sleepily, tilting his head to one side cutely and stretching slightly, still half-asleep. When he stopped stretching, his shirt was almost completely open, and Kain struggled against his natural blood-elf urges, which were most certainly telling him to do things he most certainly wouldn't do in his right mind.

"Here." Kain said quickly, handing Felfe the folded pajama shirt and trusting him to take off his own shirt the rest of the way. Unfortunately, Kain figured that if he did it, that would only lead to worse things.

_And Kain slipped the shirt off of Felfe's shoulders, where it fell halfway down his arms to pool in a silky pile on top of the bed, against Felfe's lower back. Kain looked at him, lying there revealed from the waist up, and was unable to stop his breath from hitching. Felfe's eyes were fluttering open, still half-closed in sleepiness. _

"_Kain? Why are you…"_

_And then Kain –_

Kain shook his head sternly, commanding the thoughts to leave his mind, and was satisfied, at least, to hear the rustle of fabric that meant Felfe was putting on the pajama shirt. He turned back, but it was too soon. Though the blue button-up pajama shirt was technically _on_ Felfe, he hadn't yet buttoned it up, and by that misfortune his entire chest was still exposed, perhaps even more so than before. And then Kain's eyes, by some divine mistake, locked onto Felfe's surprised ones, and both of them sat there silently for a moment, knowing what was supposed to happen but resisting it.

"Kain…" Felfe said suddenly, pulling his shirt nearly closed and taking hold of the middle button. But he seemed distracted, and wasn't actually fastening the button, just examining it absently.

Kain sighed and looked down. At which point he noticed that his robe had come slightly loose, and more of _his _chest was showing. Not a lot, though, to which he was grateful. He hastily fixed it and pulled the tie around his waist tighter.

And then they both seemed to recall that Felfe had said "Kain…" and Kain hadn't replied. So then Kain began, "Felfe…" just as Felfe started to say, "Well…"

"You go first." Kain insisted.

"No, it's fine." Felfe said nervously, still not having gotten anywhere with the buttons.

"No, it's not…" Kain muttered slowly, rubbing his forehead with a hand, trying to block out exactly what he was thinking.

"I'm sorry, i-it's my fault." Felfe blurted out, and Kain looked up to see his ashamed expression.

"Of course it isn't." Kain countered as softly as he could.

"No, I told you to take me here, didn't I?" Felfe asked, not being able to remember well because of his drugged sleepiness at the time.

"Well, yes, but-"

"I just wanted…" Felfe bit his lip. "I was worried. About what Liam said."

"Which part?" Kain said as his face fell, and he tried not to look too serious. He wasn't planning on informing Felfe that Liam had escaped, after all.

"He said there were others." Felfe said quietly, plainly horrified. "That I'd never be safe…?"

Kain sighed, and leaned forward slightly to look deep into Felfe's eyes, wanting to say something, anything, to comfort him. "I wish I could say that was just a madman's talk… but it's probably true. A lot of people envy me, and even more envy you. They come together, and… things happen."

Felfe was naturally not at all comforted by this, and bit his lip again, leaning a bit closer to Kain and whispering, "Are there… a lot of them?"

"I don't know." Kain admitted hesitantly. He looked back up to see his face only a few inches from Felfe's, and noted unappreciatively that Felfe still hadn't buttoned up his shirt.

And then Felfe brought up a subject that was sure to doom both of them, and unfortunately he didn't even fully understand why. "Earlier… I said you didn't do _something_."

Kain looked startled, under the impression that Felfe had either been talking nonsense at the time, or wouldn't have remembered something he had said while half-asleep on his feet. "Yes, I was wondering what you meant by it."

"Well," Felfe began, cheeks reddening slightly. "I meant back there, in the ballroom. When I woke up again, I thought you were going to… kiss me… but you didn't."

Kain's eyebrows rose very far before he managed to school his expression to one of only slight surprise. "I _was _going to."

Felfe blinked, and then Kain realized he had said it aloud, and would have clapped a hand over his mouth if he thought it would have done any good. But it wouldn't, so he didn't, and instead settled for running a hand through his hair. But it was still tied in a tail over his shoulder, so that didn't get him anywhere, really.

"Why didn't you?" Felfe asked, as quietly as elfly possible, the kind of quiet you use to timidly ask someone if they'd like to talk about something emotionally painful, like the death of a close friend, or getting deserter after going afk in Alterac Valley.

Kain noted distantly that this was probably a bad topic to be on just now, as Felfe's shirt was precariously unbuttoned, they were both sitting on his bed, and they were much closer than they had been, due to both of them leaning forward for varying reasons. Which were probably bad moves in the first place.

"I thought you wouldn't appreciate it, at a time like that." Kain said sheepishly, wishing he hadn't been forced into such a delicate position. One wrong sentence from Felfe, and he could end up doing something he'd regret. Partly regret, that is.

"Oh." Felfe said, seeming to understand.

They sat there for another minute before Felfe apparently noticed their closeness, and scooted a short distance away from Kain before lying back on the bed. Unfortunately, it appeared he was completely oblivious to the fact that he _still_ hadn't buttoned his shirt. And although it wasn't open like it had been, just the slimly visible line of skin between the fabric was enough to make Kain picture much worse, which was especially easy now that he had seen it earlier, or as good as. Not the 'much worse' part, but the just 'worse' part.

And Felfe was just lying there, looking more-or-less relaxed, as if he had no idea what Kain was thinking at that moment. And he probably didn't. But Felfe's almost complete obliviousness to the situation made him even more desirable, which was definitely a bad thing.

Kain shifted on the bed, and Felfe glanced at him but didn't look that nervous. Kain shifted so that they were a bit closer. Felfe glanced up again, trying to make it look like he wasn't, and remained where he was.

Kain sighed, and figured he might as well. "Felfe."

"Huh?" Felfe asked eloquently, eyeing Kain, who was again more above him than beside him, and closing the distance between them.

"I… owe you something." Kain frowned to himself, trying to figure out how to explain. "I wasn't at the party today, and because of that, you were in danger."

Felfe would have normally protested their closeness, or at least blushed and stuttered, but at the moment he was absorbed in Kain's words, wondering if he might be about to explain just _why _he hadn't been at the party. Which would have been helpful, since Felfe felt a bit unwanted (he obviously had no idea of Kain's thoughts as to this) at the fact that Kain had invited him and then not shown up.

"Earlier today… right before the party, I was organizing my room." Kain began with a note of hesitation, and then continued as if steeling himself past whatever he was going to say. "And I found something I had hidden from myself… for a very long time."

Felfe immediately knew from the look in Kain's eyes what it was about. "Kael?"

"A locket." Kain said finally. "He gave it to me."

Felfe was picturing one of those beautiful heart-shaped lockets with a picture of a person inside them, and immediately realized how horrible it must have been for Kain to suddenly find something like that.

Kain shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts. "I let myself wander for a while. I was… caught off guard."

"That's why you weren't at the party?" Felfe said softly. And then he realized a flaw in his picture of things. "But… the party was at least a few hours, wasn't it?"

Kain looked down at Felfe, a hint of guilt and desperation in his eyes. "There's something you should know about blood-elves. We tend to become depressed very easily, and sometimes that means… I just couldn't bring myself to leave the room, knowing it was still there. I tried to throw it away, but I couldn't. I didn't know what to do, and I let it take me over again."

Felfe felt so sad, sad for Kain, sad for Kain being sad and making him sad, and overall sad for what became of broken-off love, even decades afterwards. "No wonder you're scared…"

Kain's eyes sharpened for a moment, at that, before he realized how he must have looked and cast the malice aside. "… Sorry. I… He says that to me, when I see him at Tempest Keep. A long time ago, I tried to… stop the raids that went there, so I wouldn't have to see him. No one understood."

"Kain…" Felfe said gently. "I understand… as much as I can, I mean."

Kain suddenly laughed strangely, like he was trying not to cry, and leaned forward to seize Felfe in a fierce hug. Felfe returned it, though he half felt like he was being crushed. But it was a good feeling, if that was possible.

And then Kain withdrew, and looked into Felfe's eyes with a sort of unrestrained longing, like he would have liked nothing more than to drown in those glowing pools of light, forever suspended in their softness.

Though Felfe could feel strongly that he shouldn't have said it, he did. "You still owe me a kiss, right?"

Kain's eyes widened more than slightly before he got a hold of himself. "Just… one?"

Felfe, heart beating fast but trying to maintain some degree of togetherness, answered, "J-just one."

Kain looked down at Felfe, briefly glanced at Felfe's unbuttoned shirt and the skin showing, and knew what he had to do if he wanted to get it right. "All right."

_And Kain slipped the shirt off of Felfe's shoulders, where it fell halfway down his arms to pool-_

'_No.' _Kain refused to give in. _'Not like that.'_

And he leaned down to capture Felfe's mouth with his, gently, slowly, while reaching down to grasp the silky material of the shirt. Felfe's mouth felt soft against his as he kissed him, mouth moving in a natural rhythm that made his breath catch and made him nearly rethink his restraint. As he deepened the kiss, mouth opening more and tongue teasing Felfe's mouth into doing the same, he found the last button on the shirt, the matching buttonhole on the other side, and fastened it.

His tongue caressed Felfe's, tasting him like he never had but had always dreamed of, and he fastened the second-to-last button. He saw Felfe's eyes widen slightly, probably because he had thought Kain might take advantage of the situation. But he didn't, and only sought the opportunity of Felfe's surprise to move his mouth seductively, tilting his head for better access, pressing his mouth again to those lips while continually letting his tongue take over Felfe's. He did another button. And another.

Felfe gasped into the kiss as Kain moved further, and closer, on top of him. Kain barely managed to fasten another button, wishing he wasn't so good-hearted that he nearly put paladins to shame.

Felfe's eyes were half-closed in something like bliss as Kain continued to kiss him, and he somehow instinctively wrapped his arms around Kain's neck, though he seemed to be trembling slightly. Kain fastened another button, and there was only one left. They were almost out of breath.

Kain pressed his mouth more firmly against Felfe's, the last part of a beautifully-done kiss that only a true blood-elf could have pulled off, especially due to the problem of lack of breath. Felfe nearly managed to respond this last time, as Kain's lips moved over his with barely-restrained passion. Kain fastened the last button, and slowly withdrew from Felfe's lips.

Felfe didn't seem to be able to breathe for a moment, and then he took a deep breath, and another, and another. Kain controlled his breathing enough that he wasn't visibly panting, like Felfe nearly was, and shifted so he wasn't almost lying on top of Felfe. That certainly would have made all his past effort worthless.

Kain ended up sitting up beside Felfe, looking anywhere but at the heavily-breathing night-elf, trying to think of anything but the heavily-breathing night-elf, and generally just picturing boring things like fields of daisies. Yes, fields of daisies. Felfe running through a field of daisies. That was cute. Kain chasing Felfe through a field of daisies. No! Field of daisies. Felfe lying on the daisies. Naked. No!

Kain sighed. Felfe, by now nearly recovered, sat up, and looked slightly concerned at Kain's sigh. Of course, Kain didn't see this concern because he wasn't looking.

"T-thanks." Felfe said hastily, and then bit his lip, a blush staining his cheeks red. "You're… well…"

"I am what I am, Felfe." Kain explained sadly. "And that… wasn't near what I'm capable of."

"It isn't?" Felfe asked, stunned. "But why-"

"I don't want to hurt you." Kain said, and took some of the seriousness out of it by turning to look at Felfe with a sheepish expression.

And Felfe did something that quite startled Kain. He frowned, and looked sincerely frustrated for once, almost… angry. "Because I'm delicate?"

Kain saw that look, the 'you better not say 'yes' to that' look, and his mouth fell open slightly as he wondered how to reply to that. And then he just went with whatever came out of his mouth. "Because I want everything to be perfect. I don't want to make a mistake, like… well…"

"I wasn't ready for it, then." Felfe muttered. "I didn't even know handcuffs were used like that."

Hearing Felfe say the word 'handcuffs' normally would have given Kain a whole slew of images to fend off, but this time he was too focused on saying the right thing to care too much. And Kain, right now, was taking Felfe's words to mean something very interesting.

_I wasn't ready for it, then. Then. _Not now? Was he saying he _was_ ready for it now? What was 'it' supposed to mean, anyway?

An awkward silence prevailed as Kain worked things out in his mind, and at the same time tried not to.

"It's late. We should get to sleep." Kain remarked out-of-the-blue, not wanting to bring up anything that could keep them from it. The way things were going, he actually had a chance of lasting to the next day without even doing anything to Felfe. Which was supposed to be a good thing. He thought.

Felfe nodded, a bit disappointed but seeing the sense in Kain's words. "Right."

And Felfe looked down at the shirt, the shirt that Kain had buttoned up as he kissed him, and wondered what it would be like if it had been Kain's mouth there in place of his hands, kissing instead of buttoning.

Felfe suddenly turned bright red and Kain raised an eyebrow, knowing only too well what kind of things he was thinking. "Something wrong? Would you like me to sleep elsewhere?"

"No." Felfe said too quickly, and blushed some more.

Kain paused, shook his head with a note of finality, and slid off the bed to lift off the covers and sheets from where he would be sleeping. Felfe did the same accordingly, and both of them slipped back into the bed, this time under the covers, and tried to ignore each other's presence. Except they were both thinking along the same lines, even if neither would ever admit it.

Felfe noticed that the freeze system hadn't been fixed yet, and even under the covers it was slightly cold. _'No matter. It'll warm up eventually.'_

And that certainly triggered some fun images, which were nice usually when drifting off to sleep, but not so great when in the same bed as your mutual love-interest who's also probably trying not to think of such things but thinking them anyway. Well, you get the picture.

"Kain…" Felfe whispered, feeling oddly like he was repeating himself because he kept saying it the same way – hesitant, quiet, curious.

"Yes?" Kain's voice came from the other side of the bed, not too close by. By the sound of it, Kain was facing away from Felfe. Which meant they were facing away from each other. Which was slightly pathetic, as they _were _supposed to have already acknowledged the fact that they both wanted some kind of non-platonic relationship.

"I'm cold." Felfe said guiltily.

"Ah." Kain said, as if holding back yet another sigh. "Well, that's easily fixed."

Felfe turned to his other side to see Kain turning to _his _other side, which meant they were now facing each other. It vaguely reminded Felfe that they were, after all, in Kain's bed. Together. And he blushed.

Kain smirked, the full smirk because this was Felfe. "That is, if you don't mind risking my seductive blood-elf powers…?"

Felfe smiled, heart fluttering because of the smirk, before suddenly gaping. "Is that what you were worried about?"

Kain blinked, startled. "No. Of… of course not."

And Felfe began to laugh, a laugh full of relief and mirth, and he was soon joined by Kain, who, while not quite as apt to laugh in such a way, did his best.

"You shouldn't worry about that." Felfe said with a smile, inching forward to wrap his arms around Kain, who was nice and warm.

"I… see." Kain said blankly, wondering if Felfe really understood what he thought he did. And of course, he embraced Felfe warmly, and together they were mutually glad not only of the warmth generated by such an action, but also of the _warmth_ in their _hearts_.

_Well_, that's quite enough sappiness. Time to move on, lest we drown in the _true love_…

* * *

"And I had no idea that there was an _absolutely terrifying_ tiger right behind me." Yuren said sarcastically, as if he were reciting from memory. 

Lance leaned forward interestedly.

Yuren narrowed his eyes. And then he admitted, with a sigh, "Well, actually, that part was true."

Lance's eyes widened. "Really? And what happened after that?"

Yuren rolled his eyes at Lance's oddly curious nature, and continued, saying, "And then just as he was about bite my head off in his huge jaws, this gryphon came along and told it off, and the tiger ran away crying. The end."

"That's not-"

"Shut up, I'm tired!" Yuren complained, rubbing his forehead. "No more stories."

"But I wanted to hear the end…" Lance said pathetically, now sipping the last of some moonberry juice.

"Gah!" Yuren sighed heavily, but figured he'd have to finish the story with some semblance of truth, or Lance would keep bothering him about it. "Fine."

And Lance perked up again, and came back from setting his empty glass on the end-table to sit on the bed again. "So what happened after that?"

"Well," Yuren said wearily. "As I was saying, he was about to rip me to pieces. And then this weird blood-elf was riding along on his horse and he said 'watch out!' so naturally I turned around and WHAM the tiger's jaws hit my shield. Just like that. WHAM."

Lance clapped appreciatively. "And then?"

"And then the blood-elf dismounted and helped me kill it, and he turned to me and told me I was an excellent warrior." Yuren said, sounding more-or-less truthful. "And he told me…"

"Go on." Lance commanded absently.

"We-ell…" Yuren hesitated. "He told me his name was Kain, and asked if I wanted to join his guild. Just like that."

"That was a long time ago, though." Lance frowned. "So that would mean-"

"Yeah, back then it wasn't even a guild anyone knew about. And no one thought it would come to be the _only_ guild." Yuren mused. And then he snickered. "And Kain was such an _idiot _back then."

"That was Stranglethorn, wasn't it?" Lance asked, and Yuren nodded. So Lance thought for a second, and added, "That was long before I met him."

"Must have been." Yuren rolled his eyes. "Because you seem to have a pretty high opinion of him."

Lance almost said something irritably back, something to the effect of 'I don't think he's that great' but decided that silence was better due to his lack of snazzy wording, which would have taken him at least a few seconds to work out until it was funky enough to use and sound… well… funky.

So silence commanded their attention until silence became boring, and Yuren decided that he was indeed very bored.

"I'm going to go get some sleep." He said finally, and Lance nodded sensibly.

"Goodnight." Lance said, stifling a yawn.

"Right." Yuren said casually, too tired to bother throwing any insults in. "See you."

The door closed, and Lance got into his pajamas, ready to go to sleep and certainly not have any more crazy dreams like the last one. Hopefully.

* * *

**_Awaiting comments... :)_**


	4. Chapter 4

**Reviewers: **Sorry for the delay. School (coughWoWcough) is time-consuming, as I'm sure many of you know. And I got sick… twice… gawd. UPDATE: Actually, yes, it's been longer now and I'm sorry about that. This chapter was supposed to be… shall we say… longer. And somewhat explicit. My sincerest apologies to you all. Did I mention I was sorry?

**Disclaimer:** Joo tink I be ownin' WoW, mon? Why joo tink dat? … But I do own my 'creations.' Especially Felfe, Kain, Lance, Yuren, and Guanji. And also Liam, hehehe.

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Liam was in the middle of nowhere, also known as the Barrens. He'd been on the run since the day before, when he'd faked death – quite cleverly, too – and escaped the dungeons. Those guards had been complete buffoons.

He'd fled from the dungeons to the zeppelin tower, managing to jump onto the zeppelin as it was leaving. The guards who had been chasing him after their initial confusion were left behind as he stood on the zeppelin's wooden deck, smirking and giving them a mocking salute as the flying machine carried him far, far away.

The wind blowing his shoulder-length, spiky hair into swirls of color, the smell of freedom… he couldn't help but smile remembering the familiar feelings. There were countless times he had run, and every time he had successfully escaped. The pride of victory brightened his world, at least for a little while.

His smile faded. He wasn't just going to walk back into Undercity this time. The consequences would be severe. In fact, Kain might even kill him this time, despite any interference from Felfe.

Felfe… that name caused him to smile again, even if it was weakly. Felfe was just so _adorable_. So helpless, so delicate. Like a young maiden waiting to be carried off by a knight in shining armor.

'_Yeah, a knight like Kain.' _He thought suddenly with more than a hint of loathing, remembering that he was, in fact, only a hunter. A hunter wearing mail, yes, but not plate. A hunter riding a hawkstrider. Not even close to Kain, the plate-wearing, paladin-steed-riding wonder. Pfft.

He sighed, wondering how he was going to get himself out of such a mess. It had probably been stupid to even consider kidnapping Felfe in the first place, but he'd tried, and now he was going to have to figure out some way to live in the wilderness, or something. Probably eating twigs and grasses and gathering berries for his supper. Running with zebras, fighting lions with his bare hands… yeah, that was the life for him.

"I'm screwed." Liam whined. Shiya'mal, his blue-black panther, growled back at him.

Liam rolled his eyes. "At least you have food here. _I'm _gonna _starve_."

Shiya'mal twitched his tail before settling back on the earthen ground of their cave.

Their cave, yes. He wasn't exactly keen on sleeping out in the open. He told himself it was because someone could find him and haul him back to Orgrimmar or Undercity or wherever, but inwardly he confessed it was because of the wild animals. Yeah, he was really a wimp.

Which totally explained why he'd put this ridiculous plan to work yesterday. Which also explained how he would have carried it out, in the event of its success, without the slightest bit of hesitation. Pfft. Sometimes he really thought he was screwed-up. Most times he agreed with himself on that. But hey, that was just how he was. Not his fault.

He got up and laid down a thin blanket near the back of the cave, looking back at his kitty. "Hey, Shiya'mal, c'mere."

Shiya'mal rose, and padded over to where Liam was, nuzzling his leg appreciatively. Liam smirked, patted him on the head, and gestured to the blanket. "It's all yours, yeah."

Shiya'mal settled onto the blanket without pause, curling up in a decidedly comfortable-looking way.

Liam pulled out another thin blanket, and spread it on the stone ground of the cave next to Shiya'mal's. He didn't have a pillow at the moment, and that was gonna hurt, but he had no choice. Shiya'mal, though mellow in appearance, had never been understanding of being made a pillow, and Liam had never tried that since the first time, when his 'pet' had quite nearly bit his head off. That hadn't been a good day.

"Sweet dreams." He said tiredly, settling down onto the blanket as best he could. Neither of them had gotten any rest since yesterday, due to the fact that they had been on the run, covering large distances on foot, and generally being pumped full of adrenaline to the point that sleep was, in fact, impossible.

So after he'd found the cave, they'd settled down to wait for the effects of sudden freedom to wear off. And then they'd napped for a while, but not long enough. Though the streams of sunlight touched the entrance of the cave, Liam was weary enough to call it quits for the day already.

'_This really sucks.' _He scowled, trying to get into a comfier position on the mat, and failing. _'We're so screwed. Poor Shiya'mal, it's not your fault…'_

He'd love to say it wasn't his fault, either, but there weren't too many other people to lay the blame on. Felfe… he wasn't even a possibility. No one could blame that face. Damn, he was just so… so irresistible! It was ridiculous!

Liam made an annoyed sound at himself, and rolled onto his side. _'… And I still can't stop thinking about him. Sad, sad truth.'_

What was it about Felfe that was so different from anyone else? Was it just physical attraction, the fact that the night-elf was practically one-of-a-kind in that respect? Was it his obliviousness, his obvious inexperience? Was it the way he talked, like he was afraid people would get angry at him? Was it the way he felt so light in his arms? What was it?

Liam rolled his eyes.

He heard Shiya'mal growl softly, as if in response to his thoughts.

* * *

"Mmmm… what time is it…?" Felfe yawned, nuzzling his face into the warm pillow that he was slowly identifying to be, in fact, not a pillow at all.

Kain's only response was to stifle a sigh. At which Felfe somehow sensed there was something awkward, which happened to be that he was using Kain's chest as a pillow.

"Oh. Sorry." Felfe mumbled, extricating himself from Kain's arms, much to Kain's obvious mix of relief and disappointment. Wouldn't wanna ruin such a great track record quite yet.

Laying back on his own pillow, which was conspicuously cold from disuse, Felfe comforted his softly fluttering heart, which wasn't exactly panic-stricken like sometimes, but was getting a little curious of the situation, and hence was beginning to timidly flap its light butterfly wings, causing the strange feeling in Felfe's chest that he wanted to go away. Or he told himself he did.

"So…" Felfe began disorientedly, running his fingers through his hair until they snagged on a small tangle. He hadn't had time to brush his hair yesterday… That had been because of the pasta. The pasta with the mana in it. Right.

Kain sat up, taking out his hair tie and tossing his now unbound hair over one shoulder in a tired way, as if he hadn't slept all night. Which was plausible, considering the situation of last night.

Felfe was too busy considering his own situation to care. His hair was slightly mussed, and though he had just noticed that he was in fresh, clean pajamas, he still felt oddly dirty. That was probably from yesterday, since healing didn't remove the evidence of injury, just the injury itself. Which led him to remember that Kain had nearly taken off his shirt the last night, and he had almost _tempted_ him to. He must not have been thinking clearly.

Kain seemed to hesitate, glancing at Felfe with an unreadable expression, and Felfe froze. Well, not as badly as he might have, but it just so happened that he had some interesting images in his head when Kain looked at him, and those images had seemingly fused with the real Kain for a moment. Which had startled him, just a little bit.

"I suppose you must want a shower…?" Kain said slowly. And then he winced. "What I mean to say is, not with me, just by yourself, of… of course."

Felfe blinked. "Are you okay?"

Kain stared into Felfe's eyes, like glowing twin moons, and shook his head absently before changing his mind and nodding. "I'm just… just a bit tired."

He looked like he very much wanted to yawn, but didn't, his mouth twisting slightly before he started rubbing his forehead with agitation.

Felfe awkwardly glanced at Kain, away from Kain, and back at Kain again. "Well, I _would _like a shower. But you don't have to worry about that, I'll just go to one of the other rooms." He said it carefully, wondering to himself why Kain's first words had seemed so unlike him. All flustered, almost like the way Felfe himself was prone to saying things.

"No!" Kain snapped.

Felfe stared blatantly. "Huh?"

Kain suddenly sighed, and covered his face with a hand, seeming to close his eyes for a moment before the hand retreated, and he indeed looked overly-weary. "Well, I'm just worried about, well, Liam."

"Oh. Right." Felfe nodded understandingly, before venturing, "But, um, I'm not that worried, so… you don't have to worry about me that much. I'm sure if I just go to the next room down the hall-"

"Look, Felfe," Kain began in a strange voice, which caused Felfe to listen extraordinarily well, as if he didn't usually. "Last night, Yuren told me he escaped."

"Yuren… escaped from… huh?" Poor Felfe had tried to make sense of the sentence and failed horribly.

"No, no. Liam escaped. And so did the other two, actually." Kain muttered the last part, but Felfe heard it all the same.

"Liam escaped!?" He exclaimed in astonishment. "How?"

"He faked death, the guards believed him. And then he ran. No one knows where he is now." Kain explained hurriedly, but in an oddly calm voice, like his serenity was a thin sheet of ice above a boiling lake of panic and fury and all sorts of other unpleasant things.

For some reason, Felfe was reminded of yesterday, and suddenly concluded that he very much disliked moonberry jello. Such a shame.

And then Felfe remembered the present, and that Kain was obviously very upset about this, and… why wasn't _he _upset, anyway? Maybe because he didn't really think Liam would do what he had threatened. Or maybe because he didn't think Liam would risk kidnapping him again. Or maybe… well, he didn't really know, but it just didn't seem like anything was that bad anymore.

"Well…" Felfe began quietly. "I don't _have _to shower. Yet, I mean. Maybe later."

Kain looked back at him with his still-serious expression, no amusement visible. "After we train?"

"Oh, y-yeah. Training." Felfe nodded hastily. "After training."

Kain nodded too, but absent-mindedly, like he was thinking very important thoughts. "I'm going to be teaching you first-aid today, among other things."

"Other things?" Felfe blurted, immediately intrigued. "Like what?"

"Like…" Kain seemed to go completely blank for a moment before improvising, "Like... not looking so _adorable_ all the time that you-"

He stopped at the look on Felfe's face, which was concerned and slightly hurt at the tone of voice that Kain was using, as if it was _Felfe's _fault that he looked different from other night-elves, that it was his fault people tried to kidnap him, like he tried to look a certain way so people would kidnap him, like he _wanted _people to kidnap him.

"I'm sorry." Kain said with a half-sigh. "I didn't mean to say that."

Felfe pulled his knees up to his chest, putting his arms around them as if protecting himself, but he really just didn't know what to say. "It's… fine."

"No, it's not." The blood-elf looked at him with pity, his unbound, raven-black hair framing his face and falling down his back like a dark river. "I shouldn't have said something like that, and you certainly shouldn't accept it so easily."

"You don't sound tired anymore." Felfe tried to laugh lightly, but even he heard the discordant, nervous sound through it.

Kain suddenly turned completely and was in front of Felfe in the space of a flash heal, which is to say he moved very quickly. And he looked slightly irritated, but at the same time guilty, as if he was feeling shame for being annoyed at poor Felfe, who he should have been feeling more sympathetic to.

Felfe, though thankfully his current position – sitting on the bed with his arms folded over his knees – didn't look all that tempting, was startled by the sudden movement, and immediately his heart began its panicked fluttering because of his and Kain's close proximity.

Kain was a bit too close, and he was getting closer. But something was off, as if he didn't have a plan this time, like he didn't know exactly what he was going to do when he got close enough to do… whatever he didn't know… what he was going to do.

"Felfe, I know you don't try to, but you really are just…" Kain trailed off, then, fingering Felfe's still slightly-tangled hair.

His face filled Felfe's vision as he leaned much too close, and Felfe found he couldn't breathe, sinking into those vivid emerald eyes without difficulty. He felt Kain's breath mix with his own as the distance between their lips closed, and suddenly it was last night all over again, but different.

Kain kept their closeness, lips nearly touching but not, while his hands slid from Felfe's hair and came to the sides of his face, in doing so caressing the skin beneath them in a way that such a simple action didn't seem capable of. Everywhere they had touched felt oddly warm, and Felfe found that he was blushing bright red, as if Kain had already started kissing him. But he hadn't. Although their lips were almost close enough for it to count.

Though he expected Kain to start kissing him at any moment, those eyes seemed to be taking their time, locked onto Felfe's as if they were targeting him, inspecting him, absorbing every detail of his face and his own eyes. And from their closeness, though Felfe was still sitting like that, protecting himself but obviously not effectively enough, his heart was beating quickly, fierce and loud pounding that alerted him to the situation, as if he couldn't already see it, feel it, almost taste it.

Felfe barely noticed as his arms slipped from his knees to the bed he was sitting on. His palms came to rest against the sheets, and then clutched at the material instinctively, anxiously. Kain's hands moved swiftly, leaving feelings of coldness in their wake, to travel down Felfe's arms and to his hands, covering them with a terrifying strength as if holding them there, for reasons not quite unknown to Felfe, who had, in fact, read his share of romance novels in the past.

But still, it was one thing to read and quite another thing to live. Kain's hands tightened over his, pressing them down into the sheets, and his lips were still close, so close that if Felfe had wanted to, he could have closed that gap in the space of a millisecond, so fast that if there was lag, Kain wouldn't even see the movement.

But Felfe, transfixed by eyes, breath, hands, couldn't form thoughts rapidly enough to do anything. His heart was having a ball, or more likely a disco, judging by the quick pace of the beating. If he had said anything just then, his lips surely would have come into contact with Kain's, such was the nature of their closeness.

And still Kain hadn't actually kissed him, hadn't really done all that much.

Kain's hands, clenching Felfe's, slowly pushed those smaller hands not deeper into the sheets, but back, farther away from him, so that Felfe immediately was forced to move with them, sliding backwards as best he could, ending up with legs slightly outstretched instead of folded against him. He vaguely noticed that Kain's face was much farther away than before as a result, but that didn't register so much as the fact that he was now in the position of someone who had been lying down and was trying to sit up but had their legs restrained. In other words, Felfe was half-lying down, and his arms were the only things keeping his upper half upright, or semi-upright. And those arms were apparently under Kain's control, as Kain's hands seemed to be still covering them tightly.

Felfe was about to say something, anything, but while he was thinking of what to say Kain took the opportunity to move closer again, now moving almost on top of him, hovering over him with his arms outstretched and hands tightening, face once again closing in on Felfe's vision.

Felfe, just a bit overwhelmed by this, struggled to lean back slightly to say whatever it was he had intended to say, under the pretense of more personal space but really just because it was reflex and he hadn't actually wanted to move away at all.

Kain's hands clamped down on his, preventing them from moving, and Felfe, his balance now precarious as he leaned back, stopped only a couple inches further than where he had started. Kain, face still unreadable but heart-stoppingly so, followed suit and leaned in until his lips nearly brushed Felfe's again.

Felfe, in panic, attempted to lean back again, but there happened to be nowhere to lean back to, so the back of his head met the still-cold pillow as Kain copied him, face just as close as before. His hands were now being firmly pressed into the bed by Kain's, palm-down, still clutching the sheets as if that would do anything.

Which left Felfe lying on the bed, with Kain hovering above him, their lips close enough for anyone watching to conclude that it was a kiss. But it still wasn't.

Felfe wasn't even aware of the red on his face anymore, because it had been that flaming color for what seemed like hours, and he was almost numb to the feeling it gave him. But he wasn't becoming numb to anything else, for which he was more-or-less grateful. More-or-less because his mind had gone out to breakfast at the moment, and didn't look as if it would be returning soon.

Felfe felt Kain sigh, the hot breath hitting his lips, and he, back pressed against the bed, heart beating the disco beat, couldn't fathom what sort of reason Kain would have to sigh at a moment like this. After all, he was going to, well, do something. Something meaning a lot of different plausible actions, each of which was beginning to look pretty good, seeing as Felfe's heart rate was up, his energy bar was at full, he was rested for about half a level, and oh yes, there was a little mention of him being subjected to extreme Kain proximity.

Kain's lips touched skin, but it was as if he had missed, instead kissing the corner of Felfe's mouth, where his own delicate lips merged into pale skin. And then, as Felfe stared into Kain's eyes blankly, feeling the effect of the warm lips on his skin, Kain kissed the side of his jaw, and this time it was obvious that he hadn't just missed, if not by the distance between jaw and lips, but by the intriguing, floaty feeling accompanying the action, like it was some sort of technique that was supposed to work, and it sure as Hellfire Peninsula did.

And then Kain's mouth went to Felfe's neck, hot breath caressing the sensitive skin there, and Felfe held his breath with widened eyes. His heart-rate multiplied in speed a thousand times as Kain's lips hovered there, and all of a sudden his heart skipped a beat as Kain sighed again, the warmth tricking him for a moment into believing that it had been Kain's lips, but it hadn't.

Kain's hands loosened their grip, and he returned to being entirely to close to Felfe's face, eyes flickering with indecision. His lips, although still close, didn't seem as threatening as before, probably because Felfe's heart had had quite enough of the disco party, and now was throbbing in odd, inconsistent beats, skipping one now and then and altogether sounding very disconcerted.

"This, Felfe…" Kain began, as if in explanation, licking his lips and in doing so nearly licking Felfe's as well. "… Is seduction."

Having Kain's tongue so obviously near his own lips made Felfe almost dizzy, almost dizzy enough to not understand whatever it was Kain had said with those irresistible lips. Almost enough to not comprehend that he was apparently being told something important.

"Hmm…?" Felfe asked softly, lips barely moving so as not to touch Kain's.

Kain suddenly, with visible restraint, released Felfe's captive hands, and retreated from his personal space. He sat up, now beside Felfe, and offered a hand to him. Felfe grasped the hand in confusion, and was gently pulled into a sitting position as well. Felfe's mouth hung open slightly, because he wanted to ask something, but couldn't quite formulate the question.

Kain gazed at him like one would at a particularly remarkable painting – eyes softening, lips turning up at the edges slightly, but not quite enough to be a real smile.

As Felfe continued to attempt a sentence, he felt phantom lips still almost brushing his, as if Kain hadn't moved from that place. It was a strange feeling, because he knew that there was now distance between them but his mind – who was on his way back – was still thinking the action hadn't finished. It hadn't quite registered yet.

"Kain," Felfe began, not being able to resist bringing a finger to his own, sadly neglected lips. "That was just… mean."

"Was it?" Kain echoed with almost artificial lightness, eyes still locked on Felfe's like he would have liked no more than to become lost in their depths forever.

"Yes." Felfe stated quietly. "It was." And he pouted, arms folded, frowning, eyes traveling away from Kain's and settling on a nice space of the opposite wall.

"Well…" Kain mused, almost to himself. "It's supposed to be."

"Why did you do it, then?" Felfe asked with slight annoyance, pout enhanced. He was still light-headed enough that he wasn't that bothered by anything, but he wondered why Kain would have teased him like that, other than just for sheer sport, but that didn't seem very nice at all.

Felfe glanced back at Kain to see him suddenly wince, like earlier when he had said something about the shower.

"What?" Felfe asked, more because he didn't know _what_ to ask in the first place. So he asked 'what.'

"It's a blood-elf thing." Kain said hesitantly. "I was… curious. I wanted to see how long it would take for-"

He cut _himself _off, glancing cautiously at Felfe's expression – confusion and slight curiosity, interestingly enough – before continuing. "Well, I wanted to see how long it would take for you to beg me."

"… Beg?" Felfe said questioningly, as if it was a foreign word on his tongue. "You mean…"

"It's a game, that's all." Kain looked both ashamed and nervous at the same time, seeming to have lost his ability to conceal his emotions.

"Oh." Felfe said simply, comprehending this 'game' quite well. "I get it."

"Usually," Kain persisted, his next explanation probably worth as much as trying to rez at your body in Warsong Gulch. Which is to say, it was going to do him more harm than good at this point. "Usually it goes farther than that, but I just didn't want to, well, take it that far."

Felfe, still pouting slightly, nodded as if he understood Kain's reasoning perfectly, when inside he was really shouting, 'Just kiss me already!'

Unfortunately, such mental shouts went unheard by Kain, so Felfe was wondering if he ought to give some indication that he was _not_ asexual and in fact enjoyed that kind of physical contact, as far as he could tell.

"But why-"

Kain's composed mask flew on as the doors opened quickly, followed by Yuren and Lance, who was staring at the ground interestedly. Except the ground wasn't actually all that enthralling.

"Well, well, I'm sure _you two_ are having a good morning!" Yuren greeted them – sort of – with an interesting mix of curiosity and 'I told you so' that was probably directed at Lance.

"Are they decent?" Lance whispered to Yuren hastily, still not looking.

"I would have been _gone_ by now if they weren't." Yuren drawled, looking back over his shoulder at the paladin who was now straightening up, and taking in the sight of Felfe and Kain sitting on the bed, in pajamas, both looking relatively disheveled.

"So, how did it go?" Lance asked in an oddly polite tone, considering the topic at hand.

"Nothing happened," Kain said with fake-calmness, perfectly composed now, and sliding off the bed gracefully to walk over to the intruders, looking for all the World a king despite wearing only a robe. "Sorry to disappoint."

"He's lying." Lance muttered to Yuren, looking unconvinced.

"Perhaps." Yuren muttered back, in a bored tone.

Felfe, by now, had also made his way to the rest of them, and was trying to resist his recurring pout. "He's not lying."

"What?" Lance glanced at Felfe in surprise. "He's not?"

Felfe shook his head. "We didn't do much, since Kain kept saying he shouldn't 'take it that far.'"

Yuren burst into laughter, strangely undead laughter, while Lance just stared woodenly at Felfe, who was not looking at Kain.

Kain frowned slightly, but managed to keep all other emotions off his face. "That's not…"

"That's what you said," Felfe interrupted, finally looking back at Kain, which caused him to lose a bit of his newfound nerve, but not too much. "Wasn't it?"

Kain's hand twitched, unnoticed by all but Yuren, who noticed everything. And then he seized Felfe by the shoulders and pulled him into a crushing kiss.

Felfe's vision swam as warm lips hit his, gasping at the roughness of the sudden kiss and at Kain's grip on his shoulders tightening in an almost painful way. His mouth was completely dominated by Kain's, and he surrendered with a heady feeling of passion and a corner in the back of his mind that was cheering something like, '_Finally_.'

And then Kain cut off the kiss, realizing that there was now a certain undead warrior and human paladin watching raptly.

Felfe nearly lost his balance, his senses overwhelmed, before clutching Kain's arm with both hands to regain stability, ending up leaning into him like he had just lost half his health.

"You know, if I hadn't just seen that I might have thought you really _weren't _gay, Kain." Yuren said sarcastically, but with a hint of something like pure mirth and perhaps some joy. And then he muttered something like, "Spending a night… didn't even do anything… pfft."

"Is he all right?" Lance asked suddenly, watching as Felfe gazed off into empty space, still supported by his hold on Kain's arm, looking as if all of his thoughts had abandoned him.

Kain, glancing down at the starry-eyed Felfe, went to shake him gently. Felfe seemed to snap back into reality, shaking his head to rid himself of the residual moonberry jello.

"I'm… fine." Felfe said quickly, removing his hands from Kain's arm and standing on his own two feet. "It was the moonberry jello."

"I think you may have kissed him too hard." Yuren commented. "_Moonberry jello?_"

"No, I'm really okay." The self-proclaimed 'fine' night-elf protested. "I was just… I get dizzy sometimes."

Lance looked to Kain wonderingly, and Kain attempted to explain. "He's-"

"Too thin. He needs to eat more." Yuren finished, sizing up the rather slim night-elf. "Did you _never_ eat your vegetables, Felfe?"

"They had steroids in them." Felfe said lamely.

* * *

After a very filling breakfast in which Felfe was forced to take second helpings of everything, the two elves went their awkward, separate ways, with a mutual agreement to meet at the lake around lunch time, as was quickly becoming customary.

Which left Yuren and Lance to fix the necessary lunch, except that by now Yuren knew Lance was better left out of such things, and only let him stay in the kitchen because he had promised not to touch anything, especially the knives.

"Can't believe it. Ridiculous." Yuren mumbled, chopping up some greens for the sandwiches. He had gotten lazy, so he was again making bacon, lettuce, and tomato. Or something like it.

"I'm willing to blame Kain if you are." Lance joked, moving out of the way as Yuren hurried to the counter on the other side of the rather small kitchen. He watched as Yuren began cutting up tomatoes with great care, and was reminded of the 'incident.'

"Hn… it's _both_ of them, if you ask me." Yuren growled, reaching for a second tomato. "Felfe won't say anything, and Kain doesn't know what Felfe wants."

"Vicious cycle." Lance agreed, nodding while still keeping an eye on Yuren, who was once again chopping up things. It wasn't Lance's fault that Yuren cut himself – not purposefully, of course – but he couldn't help being afraid that something horrible might happen again.

"Indeed." Yuren said without much thought, finishing the tomato and setting down the knife to stalk over to the sink and wash his tomato-y hands. Bones. Whatever.

"Wouldn't it be better if they just _did it_ already?" Lance said with a complaining tone. There wasn't anything wrong with his own love life any longer – he and Yuren seemed to be developing some kind of close friendship, and had both agreed that romance didn't work that well with undead… capabilities – so the situation poor Felfe and definitely not-poor Kain were in had suddenly become more interesting.

"Yes, I rather think it would." Yuren never seemed to be able to get much venom into his voice around Lance anymore, probably because the paladin was the only person who had ever actually wanted to talk to him just to talk to him. And there was that thing about the developing friendship, which sometimes, despite his tendencies, made him feel warm and fuzzy inside.

There was near-silence for a moment, punctured by the sounds of sandwiches being slapped together, until Yuren said thoughtlessly, "You know, if they just _did it _they'd get over themselves, and then I'll bet they'd be like blood-elf mages on rage potion."

Lance nodded, and then suddenly seized upon a stray thought. "Rage potion."

"What?" Yuren, who had been packing the sandwiches in the picnic basket, glanced over his shoulder in confusion.

"That's the answer!" Lance blinked, almost dazed with his finding. "We need rage potion!"

Yuren's eyebrows – if he indeed still had them, which he probably didn't – rose, before he resumed his original expression, looking a tad bit disappointed. "Ah, actually Guanji tried that a while ago. Didn't make anything happen, apparently."

"Really?" Lance sounded defeated. "How is that even possible? They're pretty strong, aren't they?"

"As far as I've heard – and I mean that literally – yes, they are strong." Yuren replied, finally putting the finishing touch (a glossy pink ribbon) on the side of the basket before turning around to fully engage in the conversation. "But somehow Felfe managed to survive."

"Holy-" Lance began, before the word reminded him that he was a _paladin_, and wasn't supposed to use foul language. "Felfe drank a rage potion? I can only imagine…"

"Well, none of us really know what happened with that, but he did drink it, and obviously they didn't do anything. Personally I think that's Kain's fault again. That was back before they were, you know, 'together.'" Yuren snickered at the last part, seeing as 'together' in this case seemed to mean nothing more than 'you can kiss me and I don't mind' now.

"How did Kain hold back?" Lance mused, amazed, knowing that the effects of rage potion tended to be even worse for blood-elves, especially those who used mana, because their natural affinity for mana conflicted more with the rage potion than for other races, such as humans, who could become mages but weren't particularly addicted to magic.

"No, no, Kain didn't have any. He probably would have noticed sooner, and I don't doubt Guanji didn't want to risk being found out." Yuren explained, folding his arms and leaning back against the counter.

"Kain didn't…" Lance began, before looking back at Yuren with sudden awe. "We need to get _Kain _a rage potion!"

"Huh?" Yuren said blandly, not entirely getting the point. If Felfe could hold back, Kain probably could. Especially since Kain was very practiced at that sort of holding back.

"Rage potions are more effective on mana-wielding classes, especially blood-elves." Lance explained pompously, proud that for once he knew more than Yuren. "Felfe's a rogue, he doesn't have mana, so it was probably not all that strong. At least, not as strong as it's supposed to be."

"Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm." Yuren considered the possibility with interest. "But how would we slip Kain-"

"I just thought of that." Lance interjected, and he pointed at the drinks that Yuren had set next to the picnic basket. Two bottles of moonberry juice.

"Moonberry jello. That's the answer." Yuren said suddenly. "I can make the jello with that juice, and add in the rage potion! It'll still be active enough to work fully."

"Well, that's a great idea, but," Lance paused. "Does Kain even like moonberry jello?"

"Ah. You have a point." Yuren sighed, let down by the failure of his great idea.

"But we can still just add the potion to the juice, right?" Lance suggested, it being the original idea which he had been planning to suggest before Yuren came up with the jello idea. "If the juice is the only drink we pack them, they'll both end up having it."

Yuren gaped. "It's so simple, yet so brilliant!"

Lance grinned at the rather interesting expression on Yuren's face, almost a happy, excited one if not for the fact that undead faces didn't smile so well.

"Lance, you're a genius!" Yuren exclaimed, hurrying to one of the freeze-system's compartments to dig out a couple of rage potions from where they had been hidden behind the chocolate syrup and the whipped cream, such things usually going together so were naturally stacked in the same location.

Lance would have expected anyone else, after saying something like that, to throw their arms around him excitedly, but this was Yuren, so that just wasn't going to happen.

Yuren pulled out the cork from one of the bottles, setting it on the counter, and tried to yank the other cork from the other bottle. As he seized the cork, he felt arms encircled his shoulders from behind, and stiffened.

Lance smiled as Yuren attempted to look back over his shoulder.

"And just _what _are you doing?" Yuren asked with slight irritation. Slight because this was Lance. Irritation because he wasn't used to random unconditional love.

"You're welcome." Lance said cheekily, giving Yuren a squeeze before releasing him.

Yuren rolled his eyes, and went back to his task of getting the rage potions into the moonberry juice. "Whatever."

* * *

In favor of a slight change of scenery, and relief from the constant déjà vu of the lake, Felfe and Kain had decided to find another spot. Somewhere more open, with less trees and a clear, grassy meadow. In other words, something better for all-out battles. Not that that was what they were going to be working on.

"I believe there's a clearing over this way." Kain said unnecessarily, leading the way to what was, in fact, a clearing. A clearing with a few bears, quite a few spiders, and a squirrel here and there.

"It looks dangerous." Felfe mumbled without any real fear.

"Not a problem." Kain said cordially, heading out into the area before Felfe and beginning to clear away the beasts.

Their 'relationship' had been slightly strained since that morning, when Felfe had more-or-less said something he shouldn't have – at least, not in front of Yuren and Lance – and then the results had been somewhat awkward. Of course, this was only Felfe's idea of the reason he felt awkward. Perhaps, in actuality, it was the strange warning inside him that knew of the sinister plan concocted by two of his friends.

Regardless, now was training, and Kain had just finished hacking the last bear rather artfully into pieces. Perhaps he was blowing off steam.

"Well, then." Kain said with a note of finality, or perhaps that was a note of beginning, seeing as the training hadn't even started, much less finished.

As he put down the picnic basket on the ground, Felfe was tempted to ask what they were going to do, but ended up not, instead taking out his two training swords.

"No, no, we aren't doing combat training today." Kain commented quickly, seeing Felfe preparing for just that. "I'm going to teach you first aid."

"Oh." Felfe said, and put away the swords.

Kain sat down on the grassy ground a couple meters from the picnic basket – Felfe suspected that the distance was to avoid the temptation of food – and gestured for Felfe to join him. Felfe walked over to him, and sat down not close but not far from him. Perhaps a couple feet away.

"Now, first off, I'll explain it to you. It's not complicated." Kain began calmly, his usual self. "First aid is a system mostly dealing with bandaging. You can bandage whenever you're not fighting something, and bandaging helps you regain your health. Because you happen to be a rogue, you can gouge your enemy and bandage then, as well. Bandages are made from materials, such as linen or wool. The better quality the fabric and the thicker the bandage, the more health it will heal."

"Wow." Felfe said quietly, after it was clear that Kain's 'not complicated' explanation was over. Although Felfe had to admit that it really was pretty simple. Bandage, you recover health. But not if you're fighting something, because you can't fight and bandage at the same time. Right.

"To start," Kain took out a stack of linen material. "You must make the bandages themselves. This is the easy part. Just take a couple layers, and watch how I do it."

Felfe followed Kain's example and ended up with a perfectly normal-looking linen bandage.

"It _was _easy." He said with surprise, looking up to see Kain nodding approvingly.

"Good." Kain said evenly. "Now, take off your shirt."

Felfe blinked, and then, while starting to unbutton the vest and then the white linen shirt he was wearing, asked unnecessarily, "Why?"

"Because you need somewhere to bandage." Kain explained.

Felfe, still unbuttoning the shirt, nodded, as if he really hadn't required an explanation at all. Feeling slightly awkward, well more than slightly, he undid the last button, which left his shirt partially open in a sort of breezy way.

"Right." Kain said without any particular purpose. "First, try wrapping the bandage around your stomach."

Felfe hesitated, fumbling with the cloth bandage, and attempted to begin wrapping it around his waist, holding one end while directing the other. He got the bandage around the first time and then kept winding it around again and again until it looked a bit like a bandage job for a stomach injury.

Kain said nothing for a moment, examining the bandage from where he sat, and then suggested, "Stand up."

Felfe stood, and the bandage started unraveling and sliding off his body. "Cupcakes…" And he caught the bandage as it kept coming off.

Kain gestured for him to sit back down again, before explaining, "You didn't wrap it tightly enough. Here, watch."

Felfe scooted closer to Kain, slightly apprehensive because of his open shirt, and took the rest of the bandage from his waist and handed it to Kain.

"Now, you can't wind it too tight, or you won't be able to breathe. It's a matter of balance. Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it." Kain instructed, taking the bandage and reaching around Felfe's waist to hold one end of the cloth there as he started winding the other end of it with no small amount of force. Felfe instinctively sucked his stomach in slightly due to the tightness of the fabric, and the slightly anxious feeling of Kain's hands grazing his skin.

Kain noticed, unfortunately. "You don't want to do that."

Felfe looked up at Kain, blinked, and looked down at where the blood-elf had momentarily stopped binding.

Kain answered the unspoken question of 'what?' with, "If you hold in your stomach like that, you won't be able to breathe well when I finish the binding."

"Oh." Felfe said, trying to relax and let out the breath he had been holding more-or-less continuously in order to suck in his stomach. "Okay."

Kain, seeing Felfe's stomach relax in a way, once again began binding, wrapping the bandage around his waist in a way that it was tight enough to hold on but not stifling. After another few seconds he had the bandaging finished, and secured the end by tucking it firmly under the rest of the binding, his hand once again making contact with Felfe's skin, just slightly and not really purposefully.

But just the same, Felfe started slightly, feeling suddenly awkward.

"All right," Kain said abruptly, apparently feeling the same thing. "Try to stand up again."

Felfe did so, in an overly casual way but still watching Kain while trying to look like he wasn't. The bandage stayed up, but he really wasn't all that concerned right then about such things.

"Good." Kain said without any real enthusiasm. "Now you get to try it again."

Felfe nodded all-too-quickly, sitting back down with the awkward feeling still hanging overhead. He took off the bandage that Kain had wound tightly, and tried to think random and completely ridiculous thoughts like picturing bunnies hopping around in a field of clover. Or pumpkins in a patch of farmland. Or even just clouds in a nice, blue sky.

Belatedly, he realized that he had been sitting there woodenly for the past few seconds, and he hurriedly started wrapping the bandage, not really thinking about what he was doing.

"No, no, what are you doing?" Kain chided, taking a hold of Felfe's right hand and helping him wind the bandage in a much more effective way than the loose, sloppy method he had been working on. "It has to be tight, remember?"

Felfe nodded fast, noticing only that Kain was closer than he had been before, and… well, that was about all he noticed. There was something about a bandage, too, but Felfe had not really been paying attention to that.

Kain watched Felfe stare blankly at him, hands clutching the bandage absently but not doing anything, and sighed. "I believe it may be time to break for lunch."

This sentence startled Felfe out of his thoughts, and he realized that Kain had said something about lunch. "But I thought you said it was bad to eat during training…?"

Kain shook his head, moving over to where the picnic basket was and sitting down. Felfe followed suit, and allowed Kain the honor of opening the basket and taking out its contents.

"… I thought we had these sandwiches last time…" Kain remarked quietly, to himself, as he pulled out the bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches. Felfe, of course, barely noticed, and took his sandwich eagerly, immediately starting to munch on it.

Kain took out the bottles of moonberry juice, and handed one to Felfe. Then he also started on his sandwich, wondering what they were going to do for the rest of training. If Felfe continued to be that out of it, they wouldn't be able to battle much without causing the night-elf serious injury. Unless Kain was very careful, but still it wasn't a great idea.

"Felfe, are you all right?" Kain asked as he witnessed Felfe staring at him while eating his sandwich.

"Mm? Mmmm hmmm." Felfe answered in the positive, now more than halfway done with the sandwich, his mouth full of bacon, lettuce, and tomato-y goodness.

Kain smiled slightly, nearly finished with his own sandwich, and took a swig of moonberry juice. He had always had a liking for anything moonberry, but had never let anyone know because many of his admirers had a well-known tendency to 'curse the drinks' so to speak. Which meant, naturally, that they put curses on it, which could be quite nasty but easily healable, and possibly gave some healer an excuse to touch him. So he'd never let anyone know that he liked moonberry juice. Or jello. Or whatever.

Felfe finished the sandwich, and wasted no time in indulging in the juice, savoring the sweet, strong taste of fresh moonberries. He really did like moonberries, despite his now definite loathing of moonberry _jello_ in particular.

They sat there for a while, both sipping juice very placidly, neither saying much. Or anything, for that matter. It was a bit awkward, truthfully, due to that morning as well as the idea of whatever was next in store for training, be it sparring or bandaging. Either of which was potentially harmful, depending on if Felfe remained blank and if he would be handling any sharp objects.

Eventually, though, the odd silence had to be broken, and Kain was just the person for that. "Listen, Felfe, about this morning-"

"Oh, it's fine." Felfe cut in hastily, nearly gulping down a mouthful of juice in order to get words in and cut off Kain's impending sentence.

"Is it?" Kain persisted with no slight concern. "You seem distracted."

"Because you're here." Felfe answered bluntly.

Kain was taken aback by the candid reply, but nevertheless attempted to keep his composure, choosing to ask, "But you're all right?"

Felfe nodded, taking another drink from the bottle.

And he began to feel slightly dizzy.

"Felfe…" Kain began, shaking his head as if to clear it of static. "I suppose we'll get on with the bandaging now. You need to get much better at it for it to be of any use."

Felfe rose to his feet a little too quickly, and stumbled slightly, his vision skewing. Kain was at his side in an instant, seizing his arm and holding him up.

"What's wrong?" He asked immediately, sizing up the sight of Felfe with bright eyes looking hazy and body feeling oddly weak as if he couldn't support himself.

Unfortunately, Kain didn't hear Felfe's answer, because suddenly he was hit with a major headache, right at his temples, which blocked out all noise for a few seconds as he shut his eyes tightly and tried to accept the pain. There was something that was bluntly telling him that this was not a new feeling, but he couldn't seem to find it.

"Kain!" Felfe was the one holding him up, now, and was obviously worried at the fact that the always solid Kain was now sinking slowly to his knees. "Kain, are you okay?"

"No…" Kain muttered, a hand going to his forehead and clutching his aching head. "Wait, this is…"

Felfe sat down next to Kain, feeling dizzy, even more so than before. "I feel… dizzy." He said incredulously. "Was it something we ate?"

Kain froze, hand slipping from his face. "It's… rage potion!"

Felfe gaped for a moment, and then said, "Well, at least that's not so bad. I thought it was mana poisoning or something."

"Felfe, this is bad!" Kain said harshly. "Do you know what will… you can't stay here!"

"What?" Felfe asked, confused, headache setting in. Although his headache, by the looks of it, wasn't nearly as bad as Kain's.

"You need to leave!" Kain commanded, horrified, brushing off Felfe's supportive arm and stumbling slightly as he slowly got to his feet.

Felfe, though, was not going anywhere. "But you're-"

"_Fine_. I'm fine! Just go!" Kain exclaimed, clutching his head.

And then it so happened that a bear respawned at his side, and its hungry eyes alighted on the wavering blood-elf paladin. Kain happened to notice this, and turned slightly to watch it bound up to him in a very bear-like fashion, slobbering enthusiastically.

Felfe shouted something, whatever it was, and shoved Kain weakly. But that didn't really move him out of the way, and the bear was about to go for the kill. So Felfe yanked the Hungering Cold from its sheath at Kain's side, hefted it uneasily, and proceeded to accidentally drop it, the shining sword slipping out of his hands to fall straight towards the head of the leaping bear, which was about to tackle Kain.

Unfortunately, by some stroke of luck in the bear's case, the sword did not in fact make contact with its hide, and thus had no effect. So the bear ended up rising up on its hind legs to claw at Kain, who managed to feebly block its attempts with both armored arms. But his headache was to a point where he could barely focus his eyesight, and it was clear that he wasn't in a condition to battle.

"Leave. Sprint, if you can. Just get yourself… away." Kain said hurriedly, eyes glistening strangely as they seemed to unfocus and refocus.

Felfe, though, had picked up the Hungering Cold from where it lay, and started forward to combat the bear, though his headache was not by any means mild, either.

"What are you doing? Go!" Kain shouted angrily, dealing the bear a rather freestyle punch to the muzzle.

Felfe hesitated, flipped the sword so that the point was facing himself, and then held out the hilt to Kain, who, though at first unaware, presently noticed it and took hold of it. Felfe let go once Kain seemed to have a good grip, and then Kain smashed the sword into the bear with such force that it nearly exploded, and the grass beneath it froze blue.

"Why haven't you left yet?" Kain hissed, but there was no venom, now. He sounded tired, as if, since his attempts to get Felfe to leave had failed, it wasn't going to make a difference now.

"I had to make sure you weren't eaten…" Felfe protested, but he felt about as tired as Kain sounded. But he started to feel better after the sentence, and he noticed that his headache was fading.

Wait. Wasn't that a bad thing?

"But Felfe…" Kain sat down on the grass, looking oddly thoughtful after being so intensely affected by the rage headache. "If you don't leave, you know what will happen, don't you?"

Felfe said nothing, trickles of fear piercing his heart as it beat off-key, wondering if such a thing was inevitable, now. It was slightly shocking, he supposed, that it should happen in a way like this, by way of rage potion. He hadn't really expected… well, that. And he wasn't sure if he was all right with the idea, and had to forcefully remind himself that he probably couldn't get away at this point.

"How long do I have?"

"About a minute."

Felfe rose to his feet, gave Kain an apologetic and at the same time worried look, and sprinted off into the surrounding forest. As his feet carried him farther away from the clearing, though, he started to feel much better, in fact, too much better. The effects of the potion were clearly starting.

Back in the clearing, unbeknownst to Felfe, Kain had closed his eyes in order to not know which direction the night-elf had taken.

* * *

As Felfe raced through the forest, he felt himself slowing. Sprint then faded from him, and he halted at the nearest tree, leaning against it for support. Sprint, as always, made him extremely tired. But he recovered quickly this time, for reasons not entirely unknown to him. After all, the rage potion was doing its work, and the visions would be arriving soon to torture him.

Speaking of which, he was going to have to hide, or something. Walking off a cliff sounded relatively useful. But he was in the woods, and he wasn't going to risk leaving them, since they provided good cover.

Felfe, though, really didn't want to think of Kain as a predator, hunting him down like he was a little rabbit. But unfortunately, that was most likely what would happen.

Felfe winced, and decided to stealth, edging to the other side of the tree and leaning his back against it, still standing because he was too nervous to sit down. It was an odd thing, this nervousness. He would have thought by now that he'd never be running from Kain again (as had happened the first time they met), but he was proved wrong by this distressing turn of events.

Belatedly, Felfe wondered what the big deal was, and then admonished himself with quite enough horror. After all, this wasn't just a fox-catches-bunny-and-scratches-it-a-few-times-before-letting-it-go. This was much worse, more of a fox-catches-bunny-and-kills-it-slowly-and-painfully. Which of course, sounded very adverse indeed.

Of course, Kain wasn't going to kill him, exactly. But Felfe knew that if they were both feeling the effects of the rage potion, something bad was bound to happen that couldn't really un-happen, per se. And that something was seeming a bit much to Felfe, especially since he'd only been 'together' with Kain for… well… however long it had been. Not long enough, obviously.

A slow, enthralling wave of satisfaction hit Felfe suddenly, and he blinked, before remembering similar effects the other time he had been drugged. Odd word, really. Drugged. But that wasn't really what Felfe was pondering, since he sensed that his mind was about to be interrupted anyway.

* * *

Silya was heating up a container of beef stew – with the whole container sitting in a pot – when she saw, or rather heard Lance and Yuren passing thought the kitchen, apparently on their way out of the mansion. She paused in her thoughts, which hadn't really been all that important, and turned to fix them both with a curious look.

"Going out?" She asked in what was intended to be innocence but was tinged with suspicion.

Yuren turned, staring her down in the sort of way he always did. "Yes."

The undead warrior turned and proceeded to open the door that lead into the large ballroom as Lance, still glancing back at Silya, provided further explanation. "We're just getting some fresh air."

"Got a place in mind?" Silya asked, syrup-sweet suddenly, obviously implying that the two were going on some sort of romantic outing. "I know some nice places. Very secluded, you know?"

Yuren, who had been hesitating in the doorway, gagged visibly. Lance shot him a swift, half-hearted glare before turning back to Silya and clarifying, "No, we're just going for a walk. Nowhere special in mind."

For a moment it seemed that the conversation would end there, and it would have if it wasn't for Silya's inside information that had lead her to already suspect something. And that something had very much to do with Kain and Felfe, and thus provided much interest to her.

Silya gave the stew container a prod with the spatula and stopped them from leaving again. "Do you two happen to know where Kain and Felfe are?"

This sentence had a somewhat profound effect on both Yuren and Lance. Yuren stiffened slightly and cast a surreptitious glance at Lance, whose face took on a very interesting expression composed of guilt and innocence simultaneously.

Silya smirked. "Don't tell me you were going to go check on them?"

"Wait," Lance began, stunned. "How do you know about-"

"Alyane told me about it." Silya said somewhat triumphantly.

Yuren's jaw dropped, and Lance kindly, though with great disgust, bent down and retrieved it for him.

"Hanks." Yuren attempted to say as Lance handed him his detached jaw, and he wasted no time in putting it back into place before growling, "And just how did _she_ know about it?"

"Well, it's kind of a long story." Silya said, although her tone was that of slight enthusiasm, contrary to what the sentence should have provoked.

"_Wonderful_." Yuren grumbled, and settled more comfortably into the door he was leaning against.

"Here's the deal." Silya began, eyes darting as if this were important news. "Alyane heard it from one of her friends, who heard it from her friend, who heard it from this guy no one knows, who heard it from Temarr, who heard it from his friend, who heard it from Maren, who heard it from that guy who delivered the messages for me, who heard it from his friend, who heard it from her friend, who heard it from some troll girl, who heard it from Guanji."

Yuren fixed her with an incredulous stare upon her finishing the list. "And you memorized this _why_?"

Silya narrowed her eyes at him and ignored the comment. "Anyway, I heard you two managed to spike the moonberry juice with rage potion or something."

"Yes, that's pretty much it." Lance confirmed unashamedly, nodding.

Yuren sighed at the pathetic situation, but Silya kept her gaze on Lance, and asked, "So you guys were going to go see if it worked?"

"Pfft, _no_." Yuren lied, faking a disgusted face. "That would be -"

The door banged open.

"- a wonderful idea." Alyane finished Yuren's sentence, perfectly composed although she had barged into a room, and a conversation, and had just interrupted a perfectly fine statement.

Silya, getting used to Alyane's habits due to her training, barely showed surprise. "I thought you left earlier."

"Of course not." Alyane said briskly, taking her eyes off of Silya's to then address Lance. "We ought to leave now in order to get there in time to catch the beginning."

"What is this we're going to, a _theater_?" Yuren commented sarcastically, because he very much disliked female blood-elves, and even more intensely disliked Alyane.

"Consider it so." Alyane drawled, sweeping gracefully out the doorway and brushing past Yuren in a way that somehow managed to show her dislike for him in a smooth, elegant motion.

Yuren's face took on an ugly expression – though those weren't uncommon for undead – and he grumbled to himself for a moment before gesturing to Lance to follow him. The two exited with Silya on their heels, the elf soon catching up to her instructor and now partial friend.

"So, where is it we're going?" Silya asked Alyane eagerly.

Alyane gave her a glance, the same mixed expression as always. "A place near Southshore."

* * *

Felfe wasn't aware of what he was doing, for the rage potion had overwhelmed him to the point of madness. He felt his feet carrying him out of the forest, back to the place which he had moments before hastily fled. With steps lighter than seemed possible, he drew closer to where, surely, Kain was. His visions had been if possible more intense this time, and at this point he wasn't seeing the real world at all. His eyes were filled with emotions and events that weren't happening while he ran through the woods faster than it seemed he ever had.

Trees flew by him on each side, and he didn't notice as he weaved in between them as he ran. Swiftly he passed small clearings and unnoticed areas of bears and mountain lions, never once pausing to assess possible danger.

_The ocean waves raged against the shore as they walked, side by side, eyes never taken off the other's. Intense heat filled Felfe's face as Kain looked deep into his eyes, expression one of satisfaction as he drew closer. Felfe's lips parted gently as they met Kain's, and the burning sensation grew. _

He barely felt the blush on his face grow slightly deeper in color. The woods were growing less dense as he sped through the forested area, and he could see the large clearing ahead, the same clearing he had left earlier with such haste. He couldn't understand now why he would have wanted to leave. Kain was there. Kain was everything he wanted. Everything. So why would he leave everything?

But that didn't matter. All that mattered was that he was back, and if Kain was still there… He was. The paladin was lying face-up on the grass, still fully geared, eyes closed. He wasn't moving.

Felfe sprinted forward, completely forgetting that he had used sprint recently and shouldn't have been able to muster enough energy. He came to Kain's side without hesitation, eyes soaking in the picture to assess the situation. Kain looked fine. Asleep, but fine.

Felfe heard someone sigh in relief and noted absently that it was probably himself. But his mind, now soothed as to Kain's situation, had moved on to more important matters. These matters included such things as what he was unconsciously deciding to do now that he had reached Kain, and because Kain didn't seem awake, which could be a problem in the near future.

Kain's eyes snapped open, ensnaring Felfe in their emerald depths. His expression was tortured but suddenly surprised after he registered Felfe kneeling at his side, leaning over him and staring straight at him. Felfe's breath caught as he realized his position, except that with the effects of the rage potion he thought nothing of it except for the excitement running through his veins.

"Felfe…" Kain said slowly, arm stretching out to entangle itself in Felfe's hair at the back of his neck. "You weren't supposed to come back."

Felfe said nothing for a moment, mind not being able to comprehend the sentence's purpose, before he automatically replied, "Why?"

The air between them seemed to electrify as Kain's hand tangled itself further into Felfe's hair and forced their faces close into a crushing kiss, taking away the night-elf's breath in a single move, their mouths moving together in synchrony. Felfe's eyes squeezed shut as Kain wrapped his other arm around the smaller elf's neck to join the first, pulling his companion onto him while continuing the kiss.

Felfe caught his breath briefly as Kain's mouth left his before they began a long torrent of it, Kain's mouth catching his and teasing it before letting it go and tempting him to make a move. Felfe took the chance and pressed his lips to Kain's, drawn ever closer by Kain's arms encircling his shoulders. Their lips collided, the potion's effects adding a feverish intensity to what was already intense, adding beautiful chaos and unfolding events spiraling out of control.

* * *

"I had no idea…" Lance muttered in astonishment, not taking his eyes off of the scene before them.

"What? That Felfe could be-"

"Shhhhhh." Silya pressed a finger to her lips, gaining Yuren and Lance's attention long enough for them to quiet down. "We're dead if they hear us, you know."

"Actually," Alyane interrupted ponderingly, in a low voice. "I believe we only have Kain to worry about."

"Well, I did hear Felfe was getting training." Lance said quietly, in order not to be heard.

"What kind of training?" Silya whispered furtively, eyebrow raised.

"Silya." Alyane hissed in a very dramatic – and yet finely tinged with high-class – way. "Remember our training."

"Of course." Silya's tone changed to one of slight scorn.

Yuren rolled his undead eyes while Lance continued to stare at what they were all watching. "Are we going to watch the _whole_ thing? Please tell me we aren't."

"You two may leave." Alyane more-or-less commanded. "Silya, we shall also leave soon and continue training."

"But-" Silya closed her mouth in the space of a blink as Alyane snaked an arm around her waist.

Yuren whistled.

Lance snaked an arm around Yuren's waist, and was disappointed by the skeletal hand slapping it away.

Suddenly, amidst the action Felfe murmured something too quiet for them to hear, but all of their gazes swerved to watch regardless, wondering what they had been missing. Or rather, to certain participants, what they had _not_ been missing.

And then Felfe spoke louder. "Kain… no… wait…"

Silya gasped and then clapped a hand over her mouth, seeing Alyane's eyes flicker to hers with disapproval.

"But he shouldn't even be able to reason…" Lance muttered, perplexed. "Right?"

"That's what _I_ thought." Yuren hissed. "But obviously, it's not working right."

Lance glanced back at the scene, where Felfe was now attempting to protest more strongly, pushing at Kain, which was unfortunately not working so well because Kain was first of all much stronger than him, and secondly was not experiencing the emotional conflict that Felfe apparently was. So, unfortunately, what had began as a relatively natural scene had morphed into what looked a lot like the beginning of rape.

"You know, I think maybe this isn't working." Silya commented out-of-the-blue, flinching away from Alyane's untempered glare that had resulted from her use of casual conversation.

"Do you think we ought to…" Lance gestured vaguely, looking concerned.

Yuren huffed, thoroughly disconcerted for once. "I thought they…"

As he trailed off, Lance, who obviously knew the end of the sentence, picked it up. "Well, we didn't do our research well enough."

"It would be in your best interest to find some way to remedy the situation." Alyane provided in a completely apathetic tone.

"We really should." Lance said nervously, looking back to see Felfe trying to stop Kain from undoing his belt. That is, Felfe's belt, not Kain's.

"Before it gets much further, I think." Silya commented, sounding much like Alyane, which had been her objective in the first place.

"Don't look at me. _I'm_ not going to go in there and try to drag hormone-crazed elves off of-" Yuren paused as Lance gave him a stern look. "We're in need of a plan."

"All right," Lance said hurriedly. "Who's got crowd control?"

"Sheep." Silya said quietly, raising her hand unnecessarily.

"I have fear." Alyane said, for once sounding almost normal.

"I also have fear." Yuren said, with a certain amount of loathing towards the warlock who boasted not one, but three types of fear.

"What should we-" Lance was cut off by a shout.

"Kain! Don't-"

Yuren flinched in what could have been taken for concern, and vacated their hiding spot in the bushes, charging out into the clearing. "That's it!"

The very drugged Kain looked up from where he had been finishing undoing a certain night-elf's belt.

And then Yuren let out a very intimidating shout. "I'M GOING TO TELL EVERYONE EXACTLY HOW YOU AND KAEL GOT TOGETHER, DO YOU HEAR ME!? I SEEM TO RECALL IT INVOLVING GOLD."

Kain let out a horrified shriek that didn't sound like it was capable of coming from such a manly blood-elf, and he rolled off of Felfe to writhe on the ground, screaming such things as, "You wouldn't! You wouldn't!" and "No, anything but that!"

Felfe, who seemed at least half-conscious of the situation, scampered off to the bushes, where Lance was helpfully waving a plate-clad arm that protruded from the leafy foliage.

"W-what's… what's going on?" Felfe gasped, arriving at the relative safety of the bush, seeing Alyane, Silya, and Lance waiting there for him.

"You don't remember?" Lance said incredulously. "Can it be-"

"The potion has worn off." Alyane suggested, but made it sound like complete fact. "A likely occurrence."

"Indeed." Silya said, trying to sound informed as Alyane was, and failing.

"But what… I don't…" Felfe suddenly realized that his shirt had abandoned him quite violently some time ago, and looked as if he half wanted to cover up his chest with something, being quite body-conscious as all effeminate, non-muscular male night-elves tend to be. This is usually due to normative social influence – most male night-elves having such muscles causes any shrimps to immediately lose confidence in themselves as men.

"No! Don't tell them!" Kain's voice rang out, still in fear of what Yuren's intimidating shout had suggested.

Lance flinched, but it was Felfe who cowered, repeating, "What's going on?"

"It's their fault." Silya said hastily, pointing to Lance. "And Yuren, I mean."

"What?" Felfe looked hurt and bewildered, edging away from Lance and towards Alyane as if it were any safer by her. "What do you mean?"

"Listen, Felfe, we didn't want this to end up-"

"Shut up, Lance." Yuren interjected, dragging a very unconscious Kain by the collar, the shirt of which Yuren himself had been forced to shove on his commander in order to drag him by said collar. "Tell him the truth."

Felfe's glowing eyes made Lance feel suddenly ashamed of his actions, and he nearly wanted to weep and say that he was going to repent for his sins. But he didn't, because he had to tell Felfe what it was he was going to repent for, first.

"Yuren and I-"

"Ahem."

"Well, it was mostly me." Lance clarified. "We, er… I… spiked the moonberry juice with rage potion."

"What!?" Felfe exclaimed in disbelief. "But why? How could you do something like that?"

"He thought it would be for the best." Yuren provided, erasing all possibility of his own involvement.

"_We _decided that you two were just… well… reluctant." Lance explained with much haste, realizing that it was going to be a dying cause anyway. "We thought you just needed a chance to… you know…"

Felfe was speechless.

Alyane consequently drew Felfe into her arms and embraced him in what should have been a motherly fashion but for her only looked terribly wrong. "It's all right. You need rest."

Silya stared at Alyane like one would a felboar charging about in Goldshire. "R-right…"

"Well then, now that everything's _cleared up_." Yuren said irritably. "Lucy!"

Lucy, Yuren's undead steed, came galloping towards them seemingly out of nowhere and came to a halt directly in front of him. He wasted no time in throwing Kain's limp body over the saddle, and proceeded to give his horse a good smack on the rump along with the vague command, "Undercity!"

Alyane, in a show of bright lights and whirling magic, summoned her Fel Steed into being, and helped Felfe onto it. She gave Silya a nod that clearly meant, 'You may walk.' Silya nodded without looking all too disappointed.

"We shall meet you there." Alyane said curtly, and spurred the Fel Steed into motion, leaving the last three behind.

"Are we walking?" Silya whined as soon as Alyane was out of hearing range.

"No." Yuren said obnoxiously. "But _you_ are."

Lance's rather dashing steed had just made its appearance, and the paladin vaulted heroically onto the saddle, extending a hand.

Yuren sniffed at the offer of chivalry only to be shocked when Silya took it, taking Lance's hand and being lifted onto the back of the horse.

"Shows how much you know!" She teased Yuren, looking all-too-satisfied now that she wasn't going to have to walk all the way back to Undercity.

"Lance!" Yuren gaped. "You traitor!"

"I don't believe I've ever seen you look so completely horrified, Yuren." Lance grinned. "I'll see you later… I hope you never sold your other horse."

"What!?" Yuren said in disbelief as Lance and Silya rode away into the sunset – or what was to soon become a sunset; the day hadn't actually passed _that _quickly.

The undead warrior, left alone in an abandoned meadow, sighed. And began the annoying walk back to Undercity.

It was much later in the day, nearly sunset in fact, when he realized that his hearthstone could have taken him back to the city in around ten seconds. Damn.

* * *

**Note:** Asexuality (as a sexual orientation) can be defined in many ways, so it is not necessarily exactly like what I referred to earlier in the chapter. I just wanted to clear that up so no one gets the wrong idea.

**Also: **Next chapter shall be much longer than this one, and I'm going to make sure it's a quick update. No, I'm not repenting for this entirely too-long wait for this chapter; I've just got back into the flow of things, shall we say, and I know more-or-less what I'm doing. (This from someone with no real-life romantic expertise, pfft.)


	5. Chapter 5

**Reviewers: **I'm glad you guys liked the last one. I'm so sorry this chapter took so much time (yet again). I won't be mean and give you my excuses, ehe.

Yes, I haven't answered reviews for a while, but I figured I might as well, this time. Guilt plays a large role in this, yes.

**Everlastingwind** – Rofl, glad you understand the distraction. It's so difficult to open up an empty Word document and start writing… when one could be playing WoW.

**Daciamian101 **– I think 'soon' isn't working well at the moment, but at least this one didn't take as long as the last one (I think)! Progress, amirite?

**Horned-Daisy** – Hmmm, perhaps I ought to have a poll as to what everyone's favorite pairing is. Would be interesting if Yuren and Lance won out over Felfe and Kain.

**SteelAgainstIvory **– Heh, as the writer, I empathize with all my characters (except Maren, for one reason or another Oo), so I too feel bad for Liam. Well, well, there is much Yuren love today, isn't there? Careful now, Lance might sulk.

**Sutairuja** – Any chance of getting those Void Cookies? Hehehehe…

**Disclaimer:** I don't own WoW. I don't even own a mic. But I do own my 'creations.' Especially Felfe, Kain, Lance, Yuren, and Guanji. And also Liam, hehehe. And Alyane, and Silya, and Temarr, and… you get the idea.

* * *

**Chapter Five**

Felfe woke to streaming rays of artificially-enhanced light that appeared to be coming through the open window. Actually, this was an illusion, created so by blood-elf mages and technicians in order to give the mansion a more bright atmosphere, since the mansion itself was located underground, directly below Undercity.

But Felfe, obviously, was not concerned with such things. He was half-asleep still, blinking and sitting up in what looked suspiciously like somewhere that wasn't his room in Southshore. And it wasn't. The walls were white with gold trim and the occasional column done in gold and red, and the floor was white marble. The window that had so helpfully provided the light was bordered by ruby red velvet curtains with gold ties holding them back. And the gold ties had golden tassels attached to them.

All in all, it was safe to conclude that this was one of two places: Silvermoon City, or Kain's mansion. Felfe, though still not entirely awake, could firmly establish to himself that this was Kain's mansion, it being the more likely of the options.

'_Why am I… what did I do yesterday?' _He couldn't seem to summon up any memories from the day before for around half a minute, which was starting to distress him when he began receiving thin threads of information, as if they were seeping back into his brain, ashamed, from a wild night out in Silvermoon City. Which, he reminded himself again, was not where he was.

'_I remember… a bear.' _Indeed, he recalled a short clip of the bear quite clearly. The bear rose on its hind legs to deal a blow to an unseen victim, all the while slobbering quite incessantly with wild eyes. That would be referring to the bear, not the victim, who was unseen so couldn't likely be described anyhow.

Soon, Felfe recalled a little more, including a clear meadow and something about a bandage. And bandages lead him to training, which presently brought him to Kain. Ah yes, Kain. Kain was Kain, that much was for sure. Felfe became momentarily distracted thinking of Kain before he was called back to his memory retrieval of the day before by a short clip of huddling behind a bush with Lance, Alyane, and perhaps someone else, maybe Silya. Which reminded him of something else, something that had been nagging at him the entire time.

'_The rage potions…! Oh, no…' _Felfe cringed. Had it happened? Had he and Kain really…?

'_No, you're far too unfortunate for that.' _Mind commented unnecessarily.

'_You're back!' _Felfe smiled, now finding a hairbrush on the end-table beside the bed, and beginning to brush his long, silvery hair with it. _'I suppose you know everything that happened yesterday?'_

'_Of course. I wouldn't be able to laugh at you if I didn't.' _Mind sneered, but for once it seemed that it was somewhat sympathetic. Somewhat.

'_So… we didn't do anything?' _Felfe frowned slightly, concerned because of his lack of recollection.

'_We-ell, you didn't exactly do nothing, but let's just say it didn't reach a point that you would be worried about.' _Mind hesitantly divulged most of its secret information.

Felfe felt a great deal of relief along with some other dissatisfied feelings that he was ignoring. _'Oh… so what else am I missing? There was something about rage potion… I mean, besides what I remember. Oh wait-'_

'_Yes, you can recall that yourself, I think.' _Mind pointed out with some twisted mirth. _'Call me if you actually need me.'_

And Felfe indeed had recalled the other information regarding rage potion. This was, namely, the fact that Yuren and Lance had spiked the moonberry juice with said potion, causing yesterday's entire fiasco. And Felfe was, to say the least, not happy about this. I mean, sure, he and Kain hadn't done all that much since deciding to be 'together', but that certainly wasn't cause for his 'friends' to decide to interfere so drastically like that.

Felfe sighed, and put the hairbrush down, wondering what he was going to do. He was clothed in the regular guest pajamas characteristic of Kain's mansion – his size was light blue, silk, and composed of pants and a button-down shirt with long sleeves. So he was decent, at least, although not entirely comfortable at the thought of walking around the mansion in pajamas. But it would have to do.

He rose from the bed and looked out the 'window' absent-mindedly before turning and opening the door, peeking around it just to see if anyone was around.

Someone took hold of the door from its other side, and peeked around the edge to look down at Felfe with an expression of slight sheepishness and absolutely no surprise.

"O-oh, K-Kain, it's… uh…" Felfe stuttered. "Uh… it's good to… see you…"

Kain smiled, although there was clearly a lot of guilt hiding behind the expression. "How are you feeling?" And he vacated his place from the other side of the door to stand in front of Felfe awkwardly, arms folded as if to stop himself from showing his affection physically.

"I'm g-good." Felfe nodded hastily, not being able to conjure much better than an expression of slight unease. He resisted the urge to back away slowly, reminding himself that it wasn't Kain's fault that the rage potion had been in their moonberry juice.

'_No, that would be Yuren and Lance's fault.' _Felfe mentally scowled.

In the space of silence that followed, Felfe fidgeted, and tried to forget Kain's gaze, concerned or otherwise.

Kain hesitated before cautiously suggesting, "Would you like some breakfast?"

Felfe thought for a moment before giving an unexpected reply. "No thanks, I don't really… I'm not hungry."

He didn't really feel like eating, especially since Yuren would probably be the one cooking breakfast, and at the moment he didn't really trust anything to Yuren, specifically his food and drink. But he didn't want to tell Kain that, so he decided that he simply wasn't hungry yet.

Kain looked like he was about to say something, since he opened his mouth quite obviously, but then he closed it, and his hand twitched. If Felfe had realized what had happened last time Kain's hand twitched like that, he might have been urged to run away, but thankfully he didn't, and Kain was better able to restrain his actions this time, anyway.

They stood there for another few seconds before Kain said something completely unplanned. "How about hot cocoa?"

Felfe blinked. "Really?"

Kain nodded, before attempting to explain, as if he felt he had to. "I can make some, actually, so… you don't have to, well, leave the cooking to Yuren." He said it carefully, and the meaning was implied.

"That sounds good." Felfe admitted, and looked up at Kain. "Are we… going to talk?"

Kain, naturally, caught on to what Felfe must want to talk about. "Of course. If you want to, I mean, but I assumed you would."

"After hot cocoa?" Felfe suggested hopefully, wanting to postpone the 'bad' until after the 'good'.

"Of course." Kain smiled slightly, and gestured for Felfe to walk with him.

They set off for the kitchen area, footsteps echoing on the marble. At least, Kain's did. Felfe was in pajamas and barefoot, so his steps didn't make much sound, as well as alerting him to the fact that he wasn't properly dressed. Usually he would have immediately remedied this, but he was with Kain, and he was fairly sure that it wouldn't matter to Kain. And he couldn't really feel much more uncomfortable than he did already, so there was no point in getting into regular clothing.

They entered the kitchen and Kain immediately went to one of the cabinets and took out a container of what appeared to be chocolate powder, and then opened the door on the freeze-cabinet and reached for a bottle of milk. The ice elementals glared at him stubbornly.

As Kain began to heat up the milk in a saucepan, Felfe finally broke the silence. "Um… I was just wondering…"

After a moment, when Kain realized that Felfe was looking for some sort of nod from him to continue, he looked back at him while stirring the milk. "Yes?"

Felfe looked slightly ashamed as he asked, "Do you remember everything that happened yesterday?"

"Of course." Kain answered, and then recalled that the last time Felfe had been slipped a rage potion, he hadn't remembered much at all. "… Are you having trouble remembering again?"

Felfe nodded slowly. "I know I came back to the clearing, but I can't remember after that. But I know we didn't… do anything…"

"Yes, that's… true." Kain said cautiously. He added the chocolate powder to the steaming milk. "I thought we were going to talk after, but I suppose it's turned into 'during' now."

Felfe smiled slightly at the reference to happier times, and then wondered why this wasn't a happy time. There wasn't really anything wrong, per se, just awkwardness. An odd way to think about it, but it almost made him feel better, like this was all just exaggeration.

"Do you want to know what happened?" Kain asked carefully, looking at the saucepan seriously.

Felfe hesitated, sighed, and then said, "After the hot cocoa."

Kain nodded, and went on stirring the cocoa.

A couple silence-worn minutes later, as they sat down side-by-side at the table with their hot cocoa, Felfe and Kain both knew what was to come. A lovely talk it would be, no doubt, and it would most likely lead to yet more awkwardness. Perhaps it would have been better if they actually _had _done it the day before; It would have saved some trouble.

Kain took a sip of his cocoa, and Felfe, who had been half-staring at him, realized that he hadn't even touched his.

As he brought the cup to his lips, he noticed Kain remaining speechless, once again moving his mouth as if to speak, but not being able to form words. Felfe knew this feeling quite well – it usually came right after Kain kissed him – so he was quite sympathetic to the plight, and politely set his cup down without having tasted it contents.

"Kain?" Felfe asked quietly. It was all that he had to say.

Kain finally seemed to regain the ability to formulate sentences. "You wanted to know…?" Well, at least partial sentences.

Felfe, though, knew what he was alluding to, and nodded. "Of… of course."

Kain set his cup down, hesitated, and then told a very brief explanation. "When you came back, I was trying to forget everything, mainly the impulse to run after… well, I'm sure you understand. But then you were there, right beside me, and I initiated it. And it all… escalated… from there, until Yuren managed to fear me as I was undoing your belt."

Hearing Kain say 'as I was undoing your belt' made Felfe blush lightly, and he tried to focus on more serious things in order to get it to go away, but failed. He at last took a sip of the hot cocoa to hide his face, as well as his nervousness, and waited for Kain to elaborate.

When Kain didn't seem inclined to elaborate, Felfe said, "Oh."

Kain nodded slowly, taking another drink of cocoa before saying, "And that's… that. I'm sure you already know who's to blame."

"Yes." Felfe replied, burying his recovering face in the cup again before nervously asked another question. "But… well…"

Kain waited for the rest of the sentence, but it never came. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no," Felfe said quickly, despite his uneasiness. "I just don't… I…"

Since Felfe was clearly having trouble forming _his _sentences now, Kain decided to help. Which he did by turning to face Felfe head-on, and making eye contact. This was clearly the wrong thing to do, and in most cases would have resulted in Felfe becoming a lump of moonberry jello in the presence of Kain's almighty smirk. But it so happened that Felfe did not turn into a lump of moonberry jello because of two reasons. The first of which was that Kain was not, in fact, smirking. He was looking extremely serious. The second reason, completely unknown to Kain, was that he had remnants of hot cocoa at the sides of his mouth. Apparently, he had remembered to wipe it off, but had missed some spots, oblivious to his mistake.

So, instead of turning into a lump of moonberry jello, Felfe was distracted from his sentence for a different reason, and suddenly started to laugh despite himself.

Kain, not expecting such a reaction, raised an eyebrow before clearing his expression and asking, "What?" He hadn't been too good with words lately, and this was certainly proof.

"You have..." Felfe paused to contain possible giggles. "You have chocolate on your face."

Kain's mouth twisted in very slight annoyance, and he seized a cloth napkin to dab at his mouth, and managed to get some of the cocoa off. But not all.

"It's right here, on the sides." Felfe said helpfully, pointing at his own face as an example.

Kain succeeded in cleaning the rest of the cocoa off, and gave a sigh, albeit a somewhat grateful sigh. "Thank you, Felfe."

Felfe nodded, and promptly remembered that he had been going to say something, which he had now forgotten. "So…"

"You wanted to ask something?" Kain interrupted, not helping at all, but as he was thoroughly confused anyway, could not be blamed.

Felfe shifted uneasily on his chair, not a sign of physical discomfort but of anxiousness brought on by his recollection of his previous question, which had not been an easy one to ask. Or decide asking – he hadn't actually asked it yet.

Kain looked directly into Felfe's eyes, and Felfe found that he couldn't look away, as usual. But Kain didn't seem like he was exercising his seduction skills, because his expression was sympathetic and he was smiling, for once, instead of smirking. Although it wasn't a huge smile, it was still nice to see.

"Listen, Felfe," Kain said softly, still ensnaring said night-elf in his gaze. "Don't be afraid to ask me anything. I don't mind. Whatever it is, I'll do my best to answer."

Felfe nodded numbly, wondering if he should look away. "R-right."

Kain suddenly drew closer, and Felfe, stunned, had no time to do more than widen his eyes, open his mouth slightly, and run a billion thoughts through his mind, none of which were recognizable.

And then Kain pulled him into a warm hug, plate armor against silk pajamas, and Felfe suddenly let out a sigh of relief, snuggling into the plate armor as best he could and wrapping his arms around Kain in return. He felt Kain hold him more tightly in response, and smiled, though he knew Kain probably couldn't see it.

"Thanks." Felfe whispered, delighting in the warm tendrils of… what was it, anyway? Well, the warm tendrils of whatever it was, making him feel loved and somehow comforted beyond what words could offer.

Kain released him after a moment, and smiled down at him like he would have liked nothing better than to hold the night-elf all day like that. And it was probably true, too. Felfe certainly wouldn't have minded.

"I still scare you, don't I?" Kain commented suddenly, still facing Felfe, smile fading a little though he tried to maintain it.

Felfe's heart skipped a beat, and he inwardly muttered at it to get back to work as he attempted a reply. "No… yes."

Kain smirked slightly, but it was for Felfe's two answers, and not for the meaning of the answers. He took an elegant sip of cocoa before putting the cup down again, looking at Felfe like he was understanding something on a completely new level. Felfe, still slightly nervous, hid himself in his cocoa for a moment before turning back to Kain.

"I know… there…" Kain shook his head, irritated with himself, before starting over. "There have been times where you could not trust me, but I don't… I won't do anything to harm you. You don't have to be afraid of me."

Felfe looked down at his feet before chiding himself, ironically, at his cowardice, and then he looked up at Kain, seeing what was in those eyes. "I'm not… afraid."

Kain looked half-amused, half-pitying before he finished the rest of his cocoa in a sip and said, "Well then, what was it you wanted to ask?"

Felfe bit his lip, stopped because it was a bad habit, looked at Kain, looked at his feet, looked back at Kain, fidgeted for a moment, and then asked. "When I asked what happened, I wanted to know… what we did."

As Felfe blushed horribly, Kain's eyebrows rose significantly, and he caught onto what Felfe was saying. But he felt like teasing Felfe, just a little bit, so he pretended he still was unaware of the meaning behind those words.

"What we did?" Kain echoed, expression polite confusion. "I already told you, didn't I?"

"N-no, I mean…" Felfe gave a hurried, desperate look at his half-full cup of cocoa, as if it would save him, and then he realized it wouldn't. "I mean, _exactly _what we did. I just… I don't want these holes in my memory, especially if, w-well, if it was something important. I want to know everything-"

Felfe cut himself off, then, before he lapsed into humiliated stuttering, and he violently seized his cup of cocoa and buried himself in it, turning slightly away from Kain in the process, more to hide his burning face than anything. He wasn't exactly sure if Kain would understand why he felt so strongly about it.

Kain did, in fact, understand, and with a completely serious expression he assured Felfe, "If you want me to explain every single thing that happened, I will."

Felfe set down his now-empty cup, surprised, and looked back at Kain with his mouth half-open, before wondering aloud, "Do you even remember every single thing?"

Kain leaned closer to Felfe, dangerously close if it wasn't for his obviously teasing expression, and said, "Felfe, if you asked me that years from now, I could still tell you."

Felfe reddened, no surprise there, and watched Kain retreat from his personal space before saying, "It was that bad?"

Kain burst out laughing, something he didn't do very often, and Felfe stared in amazement. Kain continued this feat for quite some time, in reality only a few seconds, and then regained his previous smirk, which was on the low-setting for Felfe's protection.

"That bad?" Kain repeated Felfe's query. "Felfe, I mean the complete opposite."

"What?" Felfe gaped before remembering to close his mouth. "I-I… it was good?"

Kain nodded, for a moment seeming absent from the world around him. "Yes, it was."

Felfe pondered this new revelation with some surprise and very much envy. After all, if it was that good, and he couldn't even remember, that was sure rotten luck for him. But at least it was good. That was a good sign, he supposed, of the future. Wait, the future?

But Felfe had no more time to think of such things, because Kain, although with good intentions, interrupted his thoughts. "You want to know exactly what happened?"

Felfe nodded quickly.

Kain looked like he was running through a list of options in his mind, and then he gave Felfe a choice. "Do you want me to tell you, show you, write it down, or draw pictures?"

Felfe blinked. "What?"

"Well," Kain began apologetically. "I'm not especially talented in drawing, and I doubt you can read Thalassian, so that would be two options, now. Show, or tell."

"How would you…" Felfe trailed off, suddenly realizing that this would be a very risky question to ask.

"How would I show you?" Kain finished for him, dashing all of Felfe's meager hopes that his half-question wouldn't be understood. "It wouldn't be too difficult."

Felfe, though his lips were dry and he had the urge to lick them, refrained due to the circumstances, and tried to look as if he wasn't afraid at the thought of what Kain might do to 'show' him.

Kain paused in thought, and then suggested, "I could point to places on a doll, if you like. I'm sure we have one around here somewhere."

"A… a doll?" Felfe asked, stunned, and more than a little amused.

"Yes, a doll. What did you think I said?" Kain said, caught off guard.

"N-no, that's not what I…" Felfe paused, by now thoroughly annoyed with his lack of a spine. "Nevermind, I don't… I don't know what I want."

Felfe sighed, and Kain knew exactly what Felfe wanted, unfortunately, or fortunately, whichever way he looked at it. They sat there for a few moments, and Kain happened to wonder suddenly if Felfe would taste like hot cocoa if he kissed him right then. Thankfully or not, Kain was able to resist his curiosity, telling himself that there would always be more time to experiment with such things. Someday.

Since there seemed to be no viable way to resolve the current discussion without leading to questionable things, Kain opted for distraction. "Are we training today?"

Felfe hadn't thought of training for quite some time, and was startled by the change of topic. "Training? Well, I don't know, are we?"

"We could." Kain said hopefully. "It might help take your mind off things."

Felfe looked at Kain with slight confusion, but really he was thinking, _'Does he really think that sparring with him is going to take my mind _off _things?'_

Kain noticed Felfe's obvious silence, and gave a shrug. "We don't have to."

Felfe restrained himself from biting his lip as he turned back to his empty cup, still sadly uneasy. "No, I think we should train."

"Well then," Kain said with a note of finality. "We ought to see about packing some lunch."

"Oh, lunch." Felfe tried not to groan, thinking of Yuren having complete control over his lunch once again. "Do you think we could just… skip lunch?"

"After training? You'd starve." Kain scoffed, making no reference to himself starving, of course. "No, we'll just make lunch ourselves. Can you cook?"

"Me?" Felfe's eyes widened in for-once non-frightened surprise. "Not at all. I hope you can."

"Barely." Kain mumbled, ashamed of his less-than-perfect skills in anything, even cooking.

"Maybe Guanji could help?" Felfe suggested eagerly. "I bet he cooks."

Kain seemed to think that would be a good idea, until his face darkened. "No… I don't think so. I heard from Yuren that he was the one who slipped you the first potion."

"What!?" Felfe got to his feet dramatically, although he had been going to do so anyway, and looked disbelievingly at Kain. "Is there anyone left to trust?"

Kain, despite Felfe's absolute seriousness, chuckled. "Felfe, people do such things. It doesn't necessarily make them unworthy of trust forever."

"But," Felfe hesitated. "I don't want them making lunch for me…"

"Well…" Kain sighed, opening some cupboards like that would help, and then looking defeated. "We could ask Alyane."

"She cooks?" Felfe gaped, stunned. "Really?"

"I don't know." Kain admitted. "But she seems less likely to poison our food than anyone else around here."

"… That sounds like everyone is out to get us." Felfe said quietly, horrified.

"Felfe… Oh, nevermind." Kain folded his arms and leaned back against the cabinets, clearly out of ideas and wondering what to do.

It just so happened that the door chose that moment to bang open, followed by Alyane and Silya. Alyane, stride elegant as always, face as pale as the moon, lips of blood-red cherries, was about as striking as a siren in her features, which had absolutely no effect on Kain and Felfe, but usually made other men faint on their feet or drool constantly for an hour after they caught a glimpse of her. Silya walked behind her, blonde hair in a high ponytail, lips like strawberry ice-cream in a shiny glass bowl, a sadly regular blood-elf female in looks, although this was the equivalent of an abnormally gorgeous human female.

"It seems we are intruding. My apologies." Alyane swept a graceful curtsy, not looking at all like she minded intruding. "Shall we leave you to your discussion?"

"No, that won't be necessary." Kain said, glancing at Felfe as if to make sure he was still there. "Believe it or not, I was about to call for you anyway."

"Call for me?" Alyane raised a dignified eyebrow, glossy raven curls framing her face like lethal snakes. "Whatever for?" It was clear that while she didn't appreciate being treated like a servant, she didn't particularly dislike the idea of Kain 'calling' on her for anything.

"I was wondering if you had any skill with cooking." Kain said frankly, getting straight to the point.

Silya giggled, and slapped a hand over her mouth as Alyane turned around halfway to give her a chilling look.

"It so happens that cooking is not my expertise." Alyane said coolly, obviously taking offense to Kain revealing one of her only faults, and further irritated by her own student laughing at it in addition.

Felfe sighed, and Alyane's eyes settled on him with the most affection that ever graced their depths. "Felfe, how are you doing?"

Felfe, startled at being called out, glanced at Kain before replying, "I feel a lot better. Thank you for yesterday, you were very helpful."

"Not at all." Alyane smiled seductively, it being her only smile available what with her heavy eye make-up (which somehow managed to look gorgeous despite its exaggeration).

"Is there a reason you need someone who can cook?" Silya asked suddenly, tone politely aloof, as per her training. "Is Yuren perhaps not available?"

"No," Kain proceeded to explain bluntly. "We would rather not trust Yuren with our food and drink at the present time."

Alyane, who had of course already known this, smiled a secret smile to herself, and remarked, "At least it seems that the matter has been reconciled… between the two of you."

Felfe frowned, realizing that the matter had in fact not been resolved yet, because Kain had never answered him about 'what exactly had happened' which had resulted in a sort of stalemate of the conversation. Unfortunately, Kain also frowned, and with the two of them frowning simultaneously and saying nothing, Silya and Alyane could only assume the worst.

"What's this? Is there still some issue?" Silya asked, sounding remarkably like Alyane for once, and inwardly cheering at her success.

Kain fixed Silya with a withering glare, which had no effect because first of all she was his sister, and second of all she had received training from Alyane on how best not to react to such insults. But Kain was clearly not pleased with her intervention, which made Silya think that it was probably best not to pry further. Alyane, however, had no such qualms.

"Troubles such as this ought to be resolved as quickly as possible, don't you think, Silya?" Alyane suggested dramatically, though in her voice it seemed like a perfectly normal thing to say.

"Most definitely." Silya agreed, motivated mainly by peer pressure to change her mind. "Shall we help them?"

Felfe paled, realizing that Silya and Alyane were now on the list of people interfering with his relationship. He looked to Kain hastily, saw Kain looking back, and noticed that Alyane and Silya were whispering to each other in an important-looking fashion.

"Where does your hearthstone go to?" Felfe asked in low tones, hoping the two female elves wouldn't hear over their own whispers.

"Tarren Mill." Kain replied quietly, catching on immediately as usual. "Shall we?"

Felfe, having filled out the majority of his Hillsbrad Foothills map as per the norm, knew that Tarren Mill wasn't very far from Southshore, where his own hearthstone would take him. "Buy some lunch there and meet at the lake. I'll buy some, too."

And they both began casting their hearthstones, green light flashing around them quite conspicuously. Silya and Alyane stopped mid-discussion to gaze in astonishment and horror at the two elves who would probably be far, far away in a matter of seconds.

"No! Wait!" Silya shrieked, her plans foiled. "Alyane, what-"

Alyane had already summoned her succubus, and she set it on Felfe with deadly accuracy. The succubus reached Felfe and the fear grew in his eyes as he saw the whip it held, poised for 'battle'. Kain looked as if he might stop his hearthstone to protect Felfe, but he still had some hope that Alyane wouldn't outright _attack _him, especially with himself standing right there. No one wanted to incite Kain's wrath, particularly after Liam's faux pas.

Felfe squeaked despite himself as the succubus latched on to him, whip wrapping around his body tightly and holding him still while it prepared to – what exactly was it doing? "K-Kain?"

"Hold on, your hearthstone is still working!" Kain urged him, watching with mounting fury and disbelief as the succubus bit into Felfe's neck maliciously, causing the poor night-elf to squirm and wince in pain. Alyane was going to have a very, very special punishment, and she wasn't going to like it. Kain was already planning it as he neared the end of the hearthstone's casting.

Felfe, despite the succubus's attempts, was not enthralled like he should have been. Rather the opposite, he was extremely repulsed by its outfit, its whip, and of course the way its fangs were sinking into his neck and apparently sucking his blood. He was quite ready to pass out, since having one's blood sucked by a demon is not exactly a comforting sensation.

But at least he was still able to hearth, not entrapped by the demon's seduction, and he gasped, "J-just a little longer…!"

Kain caught himself before he stopped casting then and there to slash the succubus to pieces, reminding himself that in exactly three seconds both he and Felfe would be free of the two demonesses (one, of which, pathetically enough, was his own sister), and he could heal him then.

Two seconds. Felfe winced.

One second. Alyane's eyes widened at her failure.

Zero seconds. Bright lights lit the room in green and blue as Kain and Felfe hearthed to their respective inns, away from danger, leaving an angry succubus, Silya, and a warlock's pet behind. The 'angry succubus' here meaning 'Alyane'.

* * *

Felfe arrived at the Southshore inn and immediately put a hand to his neck where the succubus had repeatedly bit him. He walked upstairs to his room, luckily passing by no one who would mistakenly think that he was hiding something left over from a night with a lover, or something like that. The marks still stung nastily, and he gritted his teeth and attempted to bandage it with some spare linen that he had formed into bandages the day before. It didn't work, as his bandaging skills were still in dire need of improvement, so he packed up his linen bandages, dressed quickly in his usual pants, boots, gloves, vest, and white linen shirt, and went back out from his room to the common room of the inn. 

He walked up to the Innkeeper, Mr. Anderson, and bought a loaf of Mulgore spice bread, which he absolutely hated, and a good chunk of Stormwind Brie, which he didn't exactly mind but wasn't terribly fond of. He was a rather picky eater, and never liked the kind of herbs and spices that the Night-elves were constantly experimenting with. Hence, his dislike of their vegetables and nasty herbs. This was also why he collected herbs for their visual appeal but had never picked up alchemy, because he wanted no part in eating flowers.

He knew that the bartender, Kelly, would have a wider array of drinks, so he went up to the bar and browsed the list, wondering what he'd get to wash down the horrible spicy bread. The list looked something like this.

* * *

Ice Cold Milk – 1 silver 25 copper 

Melon Juice – 5 silver

Moonberry Juice – 20 silver

Morning Glory Dew – 40 silver

Refreshing Spring Water – 25 copper

Sweet Nectar – 10 silver

* * *

Unfortunately, Felfe didn't like any of these particularly, and thus had to decide which one would be the least repulsive in taste. Milk he didn't care for especially, but he disliked melon juice more. And moonberry juice was out of the question, unfortunately, because he had gained new hatred of it since the events of yesterday. Morning glory dew didn't appeal to him, and he couldn't see how so many druids were in love with it. He figured it was something along the lines of being able to say 'Look at me, I'm a forest elf and I drink dew from flowers, hee hee hee!' But Felfe never felt the urge to say that. And then there was water, which was all fine and good, but not wonderfully refreshing, despite its name. Sweet nectar was another night-elf favorite, which made Felfe abhor it as well as the dew. 

"One Ice Cold Milk, please." Felfe said quickly, at last having reached a decision. He had suddenly remembered, after debating over which to get, that Kain would no doubt already be heading for the lake, and he didn't want to be late.

"Comin' up!" Kelly said, and made a show of whipping out a bottle of 'ice cold' milk from somewhere in the vicinity of the bar.

Felfe received the bottle gratefully and tucked it into a small pack where he had placed his food. He wasted no time in exiting the inn and making his way to the lake, although pausing to stay a comfortable distance from a few bears and a spider. Kain was already there, though. It must have been his horse, which Felfe hadn't actually ever seen.

"Felfe!" Kain called out unnecessarily, looking concerned. As Felfe approached, Kain started forward, as if to meet him halfway.

"Were you here a while?" Felfe asked, but was cut off by Kain pressing an ungloved hand to his neck and caressing the marks from the succubus.

Felfe stood there nervously, somehow liking the feeling of such contact, especially accompanied by little sparks of light-powered healing, but still uneasy at such a proximity to Kain. "Thanks."

"I'm sorry." Kain apologized profusely, though Felfe hardly found it necessary.

"It's okay." Felfe assured him, and absently touched the now perfectly smooth skin of his neck. "It was worth it."

Inwardly, he added, _'It was worth it for the heal.'_

Kain, of course, took the sentence to mean that it was worth enduring the succubus in order to escape the demonesses (all three of them, counting the succubus). "Perhaps."

"What are we going to do?" Felfe asked without any particular intention, and suddenly Kain paled.

"They're going to come after us – they'll know where we are!" Kain said in horror.

Felfe gaped. "What? Where are we going to go?"

Kain glanced around anxiously as if he expected both blood-elves to turn up at any second, all the while racking his brain for any ideas. "Just a moment."

Felfe fidgeted, not even taking a seat on the grass, but continuing to stand unusually close to Kain, both for comfort and possible protection. Kain obviously didn't mind, but at the moment was more occupied with finding a method of avoiding Silya and Alyane that wouldn't be entirely too difficult to pull off, Felfe being limited by his level range in where they could go.

"I'll search my bags." Kain said on impulse, and began searching his various pouches for anything of use that could give him a plausible idea.

A couple minutes later, he seized a couple of small potions. "I didn't know I still had these…!"

"What are they?" Felfe asked as Kain handed him one. It was a vial filled with unnaturally blue liquid, contained by a band of gold circling the middle of the glass container.

"Elixirs of Water Breathing." Kain said hurriedly, knowing that it was only a matter of time before their new enemies made an appearance. "And they're going to help us."

"How?" Felfe asked, eyeing 'his' elixir with growing disgust. He _hated _potions. And elixirs. And whatever came from alchemy.

"We'll both drink these, and then we have a while in which to hide underwater." Kain paused. "It will have to be somewhere fairly deep, because Alyane will be able to use her underwater breathing spell if she sees us."

"U-underwater?" Felfe asked hollowly, more than a little scared at the concept. "Are you sure it will work?"

"Positive." Kain said confidently, and downed his elixir without hesitation.

Felfe felt more than a little squeamish at the thought, and opened the elixir's vial while staring at it like it was going to corrupt him somehow. "Do I really… have to drink this?"

Kain, confused at Felfe's apparent unwillingness to use the elixir, said, "Of course."

Felfe sighed, and was about to drink it when he caught a whiff of it and gagged. "This smells disgusting…! What goes into this?"

Kain would have teased Felfe about this for a while, but they didn't have much time as he saw it, so all he did was firmly say, "You have to drink it, even if it does smell like rotting fish."

Felfe stared at Kain in horror. "There's rotting fish in this?" He gave the vial a look of astonishment.

"No. But it wouldn't matter, anyway." Kain huffed, annoyed at the time they were losing. "Look, Felfe, they're coming after us. You have to drink it."

"But I-"

Kain seized the vial in one hand, took Felfe by the shoulder with the other hand, and emptied the vial into Felfe's open mouth. When it looked like Felfe was going to spit it out, Kain sealed their mouths together in what could be deemed a necessary kiss, depriving Felfe of air long enough that he was forced to half-swallow the elixir. Or rather, surprising Felfe enough that he accidentally swallowed it.

Kain's mouth left Felfe's as soon as he was sure that he had succeeded, and Felfe just stood there, stunned. So Kain grabbed his hand and lead Felfe towards the ocean, where they would be able to take cover and hide. It was a couple minutes later, when they were at the ocean's edge, that Felfe spoke.

"That was horrible." He said. "Absolutely horrible."

Kain looked at him and sighed. "Such is the nature of alchemy." But Felfe, of course, had been talking about Kain's unusual method of force-feeding, not, in fact, the potion.

Wasting no time, Kain lead Felfe into the ocean, where Felfe promptly squirmed upon finding himself underwater before realizing that he could somehow breathe perfectly fine, as a result of the elixir of course. And then Felfe, somewhat comforted, followed Kain down into the depths of the ocean, off the coast of Southshore and avoiding the small groups of murlocs close to the shore.

It grew steadily darker as they ascended, and Felfe reached out to seize Kain's cape in order to make sure he wouldn't lose sight of him, although it wasn't quite dark enough yet for that to happen. Kain didn't notice or deny the action, not that Felfe thought he would, and the two of them swam down past the first drop-off, gazing at the expanse of seafloor far, far below. It was magnificent, the wide-open area down there, devoid of any signs of life but not far enough out in the ocean to cause fatigue.

Once on the seafloor, they settled down as best they could onto the flat, sandy ground, and assumed positions most similar to sitting, which was probably only possible because of the elixir, which in addition to underwater breathing also had some other properties to make underwater survival easier for the human (or elven) form.

In the semi-darkness, Kain's eyes stood out like bright lights, and Felfe's eyes obviously glowed in the same way, luckily for them, so they could more easily see each other's faces lit in respective colors.

"Now what?" Felfe asked what they were both thinking, running a hand through his silvery hair, which was floating behind him like a flag waving on a banner. Kain's hair was doing nearly the same thing, but was restricted by the tie holding it in a tail that usually went over his shoulder.

Felfe thought it looked pretty odd, the way Kain's ponytail seemed to want to come loose due to the ocean's currents, but couldn't. So he reached forward and found the tie, and undid it, letting Kain's ebony hair stream behind him in nearly the same way as Felfe's.

Kain smiled slightly, now that they were both assuredly safe and wouldn't have to worry for another twenty minutes or so – the elixir lasted for half an hour, and they would need time to reach the surface again. He unfortunately didn't possess any other underwater breathing potions.

Kain finally answered Felfe's last question. "I don't know. We have around twenty minutes."

"What you want to do?" Felfe asked, before realizing that once again, this was not the best of questions.

Kain raised an eyebrow. "I could probably think of something interesting to do, at the bottom of the ocean with endless breath and a good amount of time."

"Like what?" Felfe asked curiously, knowing that now he was stirring up things when he shouldn't, but being too tired of treading carefully to care. After all, they were at the bottom of the ocean. What could happen?

Kain seized Felfe by the shoulders and pulled him towards him, although the action was slow, like he'd been caught in a frost trap, because the water all around them muffled all movement. Felfe normally would have been panicking due to (he always told himself) surprise, but with the slow motion it was so easy to tell what was coming that he didn't really feel all that worried. And there was also the fact that Kain probably couldn't do much in these conditions anyway.

Kain pulled him closer, and Felfe smiled at the somewhat annoyed look on his face, obviously caused by his difficulty in getting Felfe where he wanted him. And keeping him there, since they were half-floating anyway.

"This is… troublesome." Kain said, nearly growling. Not much was usually able to keep him from romancing Felfe, besides himself, and he didn't like the new interference from the deep ocean water.

Felfe laughed, not expecting to be able to do so in the water but aided by the elixir. It sounded like a perfectly normal laugh, since the potion prevented everything in the water but the oxygen from entering his mouth. Kain's mouth twisted in irritation at his semi-failure, and he stubbornly pulled Felfe closer again, through the thick water, and brought their faces together.

… And he missed, lips grazing Felfe's cheek instead.

Felfe thought this was terribly funny, and laughed again, but tried to contain it when he saw the look on Kain's face, which was one of frustration and growing perseverance. This expression, which appeared to be quite similar to one of anger, made Felfe promptly stop laughing, and he watched Kain with slight apprehension as he attempted yet again to make something work.

Kain once again tugged Felfe towards him, but this time he did it even more slowly than he had to, in order to bring him to the exact right place. When he had him close enough that the bubbles escaping their mouths mingled, he brought them even closer together, angling the movement with precision so that he wouldn't miss again, which at this point would probably make him just give up, which would indeed look bad on him.

Their mouths met, and Felfe, astonished that Kain had actually made it work, could only muse that this was quite a feat as Kain, now victorious, kissed him very wetly, due to the circumstances of their surroundings. Felfe noticed that the elixir had also reduced the amount of oxygen he needed (or rather, he noticed that he wasn't feeling as breathless as usual), which was an interesting change, because now he could actually tell what Kain was doing, not being so concerned with air.

Kain pulled back from Felfe's lips for only a moment before claiming them again in a whoosh of bubbles, mouth moving against his while stray bubbles occasionally escaped. Kain then thought of trying something even less plausible, and while Felfe's mouth was half-open slipped his tongue in, tasting mostly salty water but bearing it nonetheless.

Felfe, stunned though he was at the intrusion, accepted it as experimentation and helped, in a way, by seizing Kain's collar and clinging to it in order to anchor himself there because he didn't want to float away on a current. Kain wrapped his arms around him, further locking him in position, and his tongue continued to tease Felfe's, which was starting to make him blush despite the odd nature of the situation.

This might have gone farther, if farther was even possible, and if Kain hadn't somehow noticed that they had five minutes to return to the surface. He withdrew from the kiss, and was about to explain this to Felfe when the night-elf decided to do something impulsive for once, and seized Kain by the collar more firmly in an attempt to make their lips meet again.

But Felfe, what with the currents distorting movement, couldn't even manage to get Kain less than a few inches from him. Which was a terrible failure, especially since Kain could now tell what he had been trying to do. Felfe couldn't help blushing, knowing that he had just humiliated himself.

Luckily, Kain had a distraction anyway, although it was clear by his sympathetic smile that he acknowledged Felfe's attempt. "We need to return to the surface."

"R-right." Felfe said, wondering how he managed to stutter while they were at the bottom of the ocean. Not that that should have really changed anything, it was just frustrating as always.

* * *

They reached the water's surface just as the potion was fading, so Felfe ended up accidentally breathing in a good amount of water, and had to be half-dragged by Kain towards air. When they broke the surface, Felfe coughed and spit out the water, helped by a couple pats on the back from Kain, who had remembered to hold his own breath. 

"What now?" Felfe asked, breath ragged from the inhaled water.

"Hmm." Kain mused, looking around at the vast outstretch of ocean, the distant landmass of Hillsbrad Foothills, and the slightly larger island jutting out from the ocean, about a five-minute swim from their location. "We should head for that island."

"You think they won't find us there?" Felfe asked worriedly, treading water and now looking down into the ocean depths with apprehension. Not only at the idea of what Silya and Alyane were planning, but also the fact that, if he became fatigued enough, he could drown in the very ocean that he had been calmly floating in just minutes before.

"It's the best place at the moment, in terms of places we can get to unnoticed." Kain said, nodding. "We'd best start swimming."

Felfe sighed, but followed Kain as they struck out for the island, swimming through the cold waters under the oddly contrasting heat of the sun. Felfe figured it was good they hadn't trained since it was so hot outside. Taking a swim was a much better idea. If only it was a leisurely activity.

"You know, that's the first time I think I've seen you try anything on me." Kain pondered aloud. "Besides rage potion, that is."

Felfe felt humiliated, afraid, curious, and slightly excited simultaneously, resulting in a huge conflict of emotions that ended as apprehension. "O-oh."

Kain glanced back at him, being a small distance ahead because he had started swimming first, expression amused and perhaps hopeful. "It's a start."

Felfe reddened considerably, not really caring that they were almost to the island, and stuttered, "U-um… I guess so…" He couldn't really think of anything particularly useful to say to Kain after that, so he stayed silent.

Kain smiled, unseen by Felfe, and they kept swimming in relative silence for another minute. The island was drawing closer, and Felfe could see that it had wonderful sands and a very comforting, solid landmass, which was what he wanted to see. Though he was a good enough swimmer that it was one of his better skills, he got tired easily anyway, and he dearly wanted to just collapse on the beach once they got there.

Felfe muttered the last part of that sentence, and Kain picked up on it, saying, "That's fine with me. I doubt they could see the island clearly from the mainland."

Felfe looked back at Kain in surprise, wondering why he had spoken out loud. "Oh… yeah."

Kain smirked at Felfe's obvious newfound shyness, since he was most definitely sure of its cause. He had been downright oblivious, himself, as a young blood-elf. Well, not quite oblivious – being a blood-elf came with its own racial abilities as well as media coverage, due to the MORMRIS. But he had learned, once he 'fell for' his first lover, that obliviousness didn't last long when confronted.

Apparently, Felfe took a lot of confrontation without changing much. Kain didn't particularly dislike this, as he could care less if Felfe developed into some sort of blood-elf concubine. He had personally seen blood-elf concubines, in fact, he had _been _one, though he banished those thoughts with vehemence. And he liked Felfe just as he was. Maybe a little change wouldn't be bad, though. Like the not-so-subtle attempt underwater.

Felfe gaped as they approached the now less-distant landmass. "_This _is the island!?"

He had been picturing a tropical fantasy, complete with radiant palm trees, endless beaches, and unusually vibrant blue-green water. But he had been terribly wrong about all three. There were no palm trees. In fact, there weren't many trees at all, and those that were there were actually fir trees. And there was no beach to speak of, only a cold, not at all comforting expanse of grayish sand and gravel that stretched to about three feet onto the island. And the water was the same as it always was in Hillsbrad – bland, gray-blue, and wet. And cold, too, not that that mattered.

"Of course. What did you expect?" Kain replied, swimming the last few strokes to the shore, where he padded over the extremely small gravelly area to stand on dry land.

"W-well, it's… nevermind." Felfe dropped the subject. At least, he thought he did. But he soon as he took a good look at the rest of the island, beyond the beach, he nearly fainted.

It wasn't so much an island – if one were to define an island as a tropical paradise – as an extension of Hillsbrad itself, and a dreary extension it was. The 'island' consisted of dead green grass, the usual fir trees, and some other things that were quite intriguing. These things were, as Felfe had just noticed, the wrought-iron fence partway onto the island, which looked foreboding, and seemed like it was there not so much to prevent entry, but to give warning. Felfe figured that it wasn't supposed to prevent entry because there was no gate, only a conspicuously open space that was probably very easy to walk through.

And the gate wasn't the only foreboding element. There were people. No, not people, actually. Ghost people. Or so it looked. They were paladins and priests, or maybe mages, and all of them had a very ethereal glow to them. They would have been characterized as undead if they hadn't still looked human. But there was no debating it – they weren't alive, and they definitely looked tainted by some strange evil.

Felfe was not liking this island.

"Purgation Isle." Kain noted with slight amusement. "I had forgotten how dreary it looked. They'll never look for us here."

"That's nice," Felfe said hollowly, somehow feeling himself grow pale. "What are they?"

"Them?" Kain asked, as if it wasn't obvious what Felfe was referring to. "The Cursed, you mean. No one really knows what they are, but they've patrolled this island since I can remember. Not that I make a point of coming here."

"They look dangerous." Felfe said uneasily, a little skull-shaped alarm going off in his head at the thought of tackling such Cursed paladins as those, who were not quite far enough away for his liking.

"For you, naturally." Kain said lightly, trying to sound like it wasn't a big deal. "But you're safe as long as I'm here."

Felfe was a bit cheered by that, but only a bit. In fact, he had already figured that Kain would protect him, as far-fetched as that seemed. But hearing Kain say it made him feel even better.

"So… what are we going to do?" Felfe asked cautiously, eyeing various Cursed. "Is there anywhere we can hide?"

Kain glanced around, and his eyes alighted on an old watch tower that rose from the highest point on the hill above them. "That should do."

Felfe followed Kain's gaze to the building, and nodded hesitantly. He carefully moved behind Kain as the paladin started forward, leading them towards a couple enemies nonchalantly.

The Cursed paladin attacked, and was felled in a matter of seconds by the Hungering Cold, which Kain just happened to have on hand, having cherished it since that day a long, long time ago when he had won it by sheer luck – that luck being that all other sword users ended up having to leave the raid in a hurry for some bizarre reason. Something to do with a thunderstorm.

The second enemy was defeated as easily as the first, and they kept their pace up the hill, with Kain stopping routinely to slay enemies before they again proceeded. Eventually they made their way to the top of the hill, where Felfe sat himself down for a minute while Kain ran around taking care of the handful of annoyances guarding the old tower.

Felfe rose back to his feet as Kain came running back towards him, slowing as he approached. "Good job."

"Thank you." Kain took the compliment without a thought, turning to lead Felfe to the tower, which, although quite sturdy, looked like it had mold problems.

It did. Inside, the stairway had mostly collapsed, and the place was unfurnished. Just cold, hard stone. Uncomfortable stone. Which made Felfe wonder just how long they would be staying there. Come to think of it, they had never eaten lunch… Felfe reminded himself to remind Kain.

"No place like home." Kain smirked, taking a seat with his back against the stone wall, looking amused and entirely at home.

"I guess." Felfe muttered, sitting beside Kain, probably closer than he usually would. But he figured it was cold enough on the dreary old island – and the uncomfortable stone floor – that he had a good excuse.

At least they were sitting at a spot where the wind didn't blow in from the open doorway. But the wind still got in, regardless, and it wasn't very warm.

Felfe tried not to shiver as he suggested impulsively, "Lunch?"

"Good idea." Kain said quickly, as if he had already thought of it but hadn't felt like talking. And he took out one of his pouches, waterproof thankfully, to access his food and drink.

Felfe followed suit, and laid out his Mulgore spice bread and Stormwind Brie on his lap. He set the bottle of ice cold milk on the floor next to him, and eyed the bread and cheese rather mournfully. He did so hate spice bread.

Kain had roasted quail and morning glory dew. Which, although Felfe swore he hated the stuff, actually smelled pretty good. The dew, not the quail. Felfe didn't particularly mind quail, not that he had ever had any. It was just a tad too expensive for his taste, favored by higher levels.

"Like what you see?" Kain asked, low-level smirk in place.

Felfe blushed despite the complete innocence of the situation, and looked down hurriedly at his own meal. "It's n-nothing."

He could feel the heat still burning his face as he lifted the bread to his mouth and took a mortified bite. It was every bit as horrible as the last time he'd had it, and he tried not to wince as he continued to force it down his mouth. He heard Kain begin eating the quail, and his mouth twisted slightly. It wasn't fair that the higher levels got to eat stuff like that, and he had to settle for this stupid spice bread.

Felfe sighed, and realized only afterwards that he had done so, which made him almost cringe because he didn't want to seem so concerned over trifling matters like food. He was careful not to glance over at Kain's food, and concentrated on finishing the bread before moving on to the cheese, which was at least bearable.

It wasn't long before he had finished the slice of cheese, at which point he drank his milk dutifully and quickly. Not because he disliked milk in particular, but just because he felt nervous for sitting there so long without talking, regardless of the fact that they had both been eating.

Kain, having finished his meal first, was at that point wondering what he should say. Felfe, who had just finished second, was wondering the exact same thing. This caused a very awkward silence, which probably should have been a comfortable, familiar silence, since the two of them seemed to spend a lot of time in it.

"Well." Kain began. And he said no more, which made things even more awkward, because at any moment he could keep talking, which made Felfe not say anything, but at the same time Kain couldn't say anything either, because he kept suspecting that Felfe would take advantage of the silence.

At last, it had been long enough that both of them had forgotten who had spoken last, and they both attempted to speak at the same time. This made them stop speaking, and then the silence seized them again. But not for long.

"Any ideas?" Kain asked hurriedly, since the silence needed to just hurry up and die.

"About what?" Felfe asked back, a little slow on the uptake.

"Well, I don't know how long we're hiding out here," Kain started, hesitant but in an amused way. "I hate to complain, but I think we ought to do something with all this time."

Felfe smiled uneasily before reminding himself that yesterday's events – was it only yesterday? – were not at all Kain's doing. "R… right."

Kain paused before speaking. "… Are you still up for training?"

Felfe felt relief and disappointment simultaneously, and the resulting stunned expression spoke for itself, although Felfe spoke anyway. "What? Oh, sure."

Kain raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, before getting to his feet. "Really?"

"It's not a big deal…" Felfe said tentatively, trying to cover up his odd expression and only half-succeeding. "Where are we training?"

Kain, temporarily distracted by the question, gestured vaguely outside the tower, towards the rather damp and dreary semi-forested hilltop. "We should be fine for a while, until they respawn."

"Right." Felfe said quickly, walking a little too quickly out of the crumbly tower to stand on the rather springy grass, which seemed more alive than it looked.

Felfe took out his two training swords, barely hesitated, and then gave them a few careful swings, his right arm making a 'pop' sound. He definitely did not wince, and straightened up, watching Kain approach with his own training sword in hand.

Kain always looked stunning, but for some reason the depressing setting made him stand out even more than usual, his silken black hair shining, his flawless, pale skin not glowing but just smooth and soft. Felfe knew what that skin felt like, he was sure, but as always he could not quite recall it. The picture of Kain walking towards him, with all the world around him as dull and colorless as a world of night, was a magnificent one. Though the greys and grey-greens of the field did nothing for him, Kain looked like a living angel just then, especially when Felfe's eyes alighted upon his, emerald green pools, glinting like the stones they resembled.

Felfe stood there woodenly for another five seconds until Kain, who had recently come to stand next to him, placed a hand on his shoulder. "What?"

"Felfe," Kain murmured, amused by the effect he obviously had on the night-elf. "Training, remember?"

Felfe nodded hastily. "O-of course!"

"You must concentrate." Kain instructed, though his tone still held the same humor as before as he leaned closer, half-smirking.

Felfe left his breath behind to concentrate very well on Kain, who was now a very nice distance from him, that being about three inches from his face. "Right."

Kain tilted his head, moving to brush the side of his face against Felfe's, lips at his ear. "Focus."

"Mmm hmm." Felfe said absently, eyes fluttering closed for the barest of seconds before he felt Kain move away, and they were once again standing next to each other as before.

"Now, repeat to me what I said." Kain commanded, but his tone was light and not at all serious. He watched, satisfied, as Felfe had to stop and think.

"Something about concentrating." The night-elf answered, a hint of a question at the end of it. He smiled, still shy, and looked everywhere but directly at Kain with a sort of half-hopeful, half-guilty expression.

"Exactly." Kain said with a certain satisfaction, and, getting down to business, gave the training sword a few twirls. Felfe found himself watching despite trying not to, and he ended up being very obvious about it, despite trying not to do that, too.

The meadow seemed to darken slightly just then, although that could have been Felfe's imagination, and Kain stepped back, hefting the sword once again with blatant skill. "Are you ready?"

Felfe's heart began to beat audibly as he stepped back, widening the gap between them. He clenched the hilts of the swords in both hands, feeling sweat already beginning to form on his palms. They hadn't even fought yet, but the ridiculous tension always did this to him anyway.

Kain gave a curt nod, his training sword making a swift, intimidating slice through the air, and then he started forward. Felfe was ready, but barely. His nerves made him fumble the first block, the angle of the blades awkward at first before they scraped together. Kain jumped back nimbly like it was nothing, and advanced again, like he was dancing, raining a few quick strikes down upon Felfe, who dodged the first and blocked the second and third as best he could.

Their footwork then took them in a circle as Kain sliced vertically, blade stopped by Felfe's two, at which point they stepped to the side, blades making a 'shing' sound as they rolled away before once again connecting in a loud clang. The same repeated itself, Felfe stepped to the side, Kain struck, Felfe blocked and released, they moved again, and the same happened.

The dance began to quicken as Kain went more on the offensive, taking a lunge at Felfe which the night-elf blocked before ducking under a second strike. There was a short opening after the dodge, and Felfe for once sought the advantage and delivered a sinister strike. Kain blocked with little effort, and twisted the blade out of Felfe's hands. The wooden sword went flying a fair distance before falling gently into the long grass, out of sight.

Felfe panicked, shifting the other sword to his main hand in a flash before jumping away from an incoming attack. Kain pursued, and Felfe blocked with just the one blade, unsure how to use both hands for one weapon. He was easily overpowered with just one arm providing his strength, and managed to turn his weak guard into an escape, somersaulting out from beneath the attack right before his block collapsed, and getting right up from kneeling and jumping back a couple feet so that Kain's blade missed slicing him in half.

He knew he couldn't keep this up much longer with only one training sword and his weak one-armed strength. Unless he wanted the session to end prematurely, with his failure as it always did, he had to find the other sword.

"This is unfair." Felfe muttered, again dodging instead of blocking since he knew his parrying ability was horrible at the moment.

Kain heard, of course, and smirked, unleashing his most dangerous attack upon his already weakened opponent. Fortunately, Felfe unknowingly dodged that too, because he was so occupied with searching for his missing sword that he hadn't even been looking at Kain for once.

That was a bad idea. As Felfe half-fled the battle, Kain caught up quickly, blade burning the air right behind Felfe, causing the smaller elf to shudder for an instant before turning and ducking under a similar strike. He was nearly out of ideas. It wouldn't be long before Kain got a hit in, whether by choice or luck, Felfe didn't really know which it would be. He was of half a mind that Kain chose for most of his attacks to miss, in order to give poor Felfe a fighting chance. But he wasn't sure about it. Mostly.

Felfe backed away again, right hand tightening painfully on the single blade's hilt. It was getting slippery from sweat, which wasn't at all good, and if he didn't find the other sword soon, he'd be finished.

"You're not looking very hard." Kain said, in as close to a singsong voice as he had ever come.

Felfe froze for a mere second before diving out of the way of another strike, turning and watching the air almost ripple in the blade's wake. Kain turned towards him again, expression challenging, and twirled the blade mockingly in one hand.

Felfe backed up further, trying to remember exactly where he had seen the sword fall. It was somewhere close, but the tall grass was obscuring it very well, and he doubted that he'd see it before stepping on it.

Kain's sword bit into the air, and Felfe hopped back to avoid it, his landing foot slipping on something hard and very out of place in the grass. His other foot never quite made it to the ground, for he ended up falling disgracefully onto his back, surprised and breathless.

"At least you found it." Kain said, slight disappointment evident in his tone, but he kept his expression playful.

Felfe, realizing that this match was soon to be over, quickly gulped in some breath and rolled to his feet, picking up the missing sword in the process. When he stood again, he was fully armed and directly in front of Kain, who had left himself completely open due to his belief that Felfe wasn't getting up.

In a split second, he saw Kain's expression flicker to surprise, and the heavy training sword began to come up as a block at the same time as Felfe struck. The two blades seemed to go through moonberry jello as they inched closer to Kain's chest, and if they had been steel, Felfe would have started panicking that he might be making a mistake. But as it was, Kain's training sword was making its way to cross paths with the incoming strike, and it looked as if it might make it in time.

It nearly did. With Kain's lightning-fast reflexes, his blade blocked the first sword, and the second sword caught it at a strange angle and deflected off its path slightly, moving slowly, in the darkening meadow, to rest at the base of Kain's neck.

The moonberry jello dissolved rapidly, and Felfe blinked. "What did I…?"

Kain frowned slightly, looking partially surprised as well as wounded. Meaning, his pride was wounded. And despite Felfe's odd 'win', he wasn't going to let it end quite like that.

"That was unfair." He said casually, making it sound like it wasn't a big deal. He tossed his sword to the ground, effectively surrendering, and Felfe smiled tentatively, feeling slightly embarrassed that he had taken the offensive for once. The night-elf hastily took away the point of his blade from his friend's neck, and tossed his training swords to the ground beside Kain's.

Kain, standing there humiliated, decided to make the most of things, admitting awkwardly, "Well… progress."

And then he pounced without warning, taking Felfe completely by surprise and sending both of them to the ground with an 'oof' from the night-elf who had consequently had the breath knocked out of him for the second time in as many minutes. Felfe lay there, little or no air in his lungs, half-crushed by Kain – in a good way – and felt entirely too happy for the situation at hand.

"I had to make things even somehow." Kain explained, sounding very much as if he was making an excuse. He propped himself up with his arms on either side of Felfe, looking very comfortable.

Felfe, who had begun to take in air again, breathed heavily, closing his eyes for a moment as if to clear his vision. That was when he noticed that his stomach was aching quite painfully, and it wasn't a nice sensation.

Felfe winced, and Kain automatically sat up part-way. "Felfe? Are you all right?"

"Kinda." Felfe gasped, still feeling the need for air. "My stomach hurts…"

Kain smacked himself on the forehead, an odd action for him, and looked extremely guilty. "I had forgotten… we just ate, didn't we?"

"Oh…" Felfe said, still lying there on his back as Kain got up, only to kneel down next to his no-doubt ill companion.

"Do you think you're going to…?" Kain raised an eyebrow significantly, not looking at all disgusted since he was, after all, a healer, and there are times when the healer goes out of mana during the boss fight, and often before such boss fights, there are people who feel the need to have a full meal. Which can lead to a pretty nasty situation afterwards.

"I hope not." Felfe mumbled. He tried tentatively to sit up, but was gently pushed back down by a hand on his chest – Kain's, naturally.

"Rest." Kain advised, shifting into a more comfortable seated position beside his friend.

Felfe, despite his stomach pain, wasn't in a bad mood at all, since he had just won the duel, albeit by a fluke. In fact, he almost felt content, lying there on the grass. Although he did feel worn out from the battle, and from Kain jumping on him. Which reminded him…

"Hey," He began contemplatively. "Maybe you should take off your armor before you jump on me next time…?"

Felfe ventured to take a glance at Kain's face, and was rewarded by the sight of a once-again surprised and then speechless Kain. Felfe smiled despite the situation, and figured that Kain could just heal whatever bruises he had given him anyway.

"Lately I seem to forget things, don't I?" Kain muttered, more to himself than to Felfe. He then realized something else that was largely important – he was a paladin.

Felfe watched Kain once again slap himself on the forehead, and laughed weakly, his stomach protesting the action until he managed to stop. "At least you _usually _know what you're doing."

Kain sighed, and placed a hand on Felfe's stomach, gauntlet, leather vest, and shirt working together to ensure there was no skin-to-skin contact. Felfe felt something inside his stomach, like a mild warmth, and suddenly the ache dissolved as if it had never been there in the first place.

"Better?" He asked, clearly already knowing that it was, since he had healed it himself, but asking because it was the thought that counted.

"Yeah." Felfe said, surprised but grateful. He once again attempted to sit up, but was pushed down again by Kain's firm hand.

He looked up, mouth twisted in a half-scowl, before seeing Kain's worry-free expression, and realizing that this time it was because Kain probably still needed his vengeance. "I still say you should take off some of that plate… you know, if you do that again."

Kain, one hand still on Felfe's chest, preventing him from getting away, pretended like he hadn't forgotten Felfe's earlier point. "Of course."

Felfe managed to see through the dismissal, which meant that Kain was even worse than usual at concealing his emotions, which was some sort of good sign for him. And then it occurred to Felfe that he should be curious as to what sort of vengeance Kain was going to enact, and he theorized that it would probably be something like the way he was teasing him earlier. He didn't completely mind the idea of that, but he did wish for something else, something different. Except that he didn't really know what he meant by that, so it was a moot point anyhow.

Kain abruptly began taking off armor, starting with his pauldrons. Felfe looked away, though he knew Kain wasn't taking that much off, simply because he felt like he shouldn't stare at someone who was undressing. Even if it wasn't undressing all the way.

Felfe heard a 'clunk' as the pauldrons were tossed lightly into the grass beside Kain, and listened despite himself as what sounded like gauntlets came off, and then bracers. A low 'thump' signaled the fall of the cape, and then there was a pause.

Felfe glanced over to see Kain looking slightly puzzled. "Kain? What are you doing?"

Kain glanced over at Felfe, and tried to look like he knew what he was doing, as per usual. "Well… I was trying to get most of my plate armor off."

"Yeah?" Felfe asked conversationally, not really following the point Kain was making, if there was one.

"Well," Kain began awkwardly. "If I take off the chestpiece, I'm going to look ridiculous."

"What? Why?" Felfe said, confused. He sat up while he had the chance, and looked inquiringly at Kain.

Kain frowned. "The silk shirt doesn't exactly go with the legplates."

"That doesn't sound that weird." Felfe commented, knowing full well how ridiculous he himself tended to look, since he was still low-level and frequently ended up with armor that clashed with the rest of his outfit.

Kain casually removed his chestpiece, and Felfe blinked. And blinked again.

"I always thought it was a robe…" He said absently, directing his mind towards serious things in order to not giggle at the way Kain looked right about then.

"No, it's not." Kain sighed. "Just so you know, I didn't choose to wear this."

The Judgment armor, which Felfe had always figured consisted partially of a robe and plate leggings, wasn't actually what it appeared to be. As it happened, the chestpiece was just that – a chestpiece. And the 'legplates', as they were commonly called, were actually a one piece skirt, more aptly named a kilt. And the Judgment kilt, paired with a slightly shiny white swashbuckler's shirt, did actually look pretty stupid.

"It's okay, you can put the chestpiece back on." Felfe said in what he hoped came over as a comforting tone, but sounded more to him as if he was holding back laughter, which he was.

Kain wasted no time in putting the chestpiece back on, all the while hating his kilt passionately. Sure, there were some times when he could wear something else, which usually consisted of a _proper _robe and pants combination, but mostly his Judgment armor seemed the shiniest and most official-looking outfit, which he wore mostly because people expected him to, since he was the Guild Master. But at the moment, the stupid kilt was the last thing he wanted to wear.

"I think I'm going to change my wardrobe." Kain mused, frown still in place.

"It's not that bad, it just looks weird with the shirt and the kilt together." Felfe said, standing and brushing himself off of grass. He then remembered that Kain still wanted revenge, and he decided to execute a rather silly plan, not because he didn't like the idea of Kain getting revenge, but because Kain needed to lighten up just then.

As Kain got to his feet, realizing that Felfe had already gotten up and was not in the ideal position for the planned revenge, Felfe hurriedly picked up both of his training swords, sheathed them, and began running towards the tower.

Turning around for a moment, he said jokingly, "Catch me if you can!"

If anyone else had said that, Kain would have been rolling his eyes, at least mentally. But somehow, Felfe just looked adorably irresistible, as he always did. So Kain took his own training sword, sheathed it, and ran after the night-elf, catching up right as they came through the tower's doorway.

Felfe, panting, leaned his back against the stone wall, not so much tired from the short distance as from the recent training, which he guessed had taken more of a toll on him than it appeared. Kain wasted no time in stalking over to Felfe, a slightly amused look on his face.

Felfe felt one of Kain's hands close over his wrist, and then the other did likewise. He tilted his head a little to one side, asking the silent question of 'what in the world is Kain up to this time?'

Kain brought Felfe's hands up to his chest, pinning them there, and smiled slightly. "You were much too easy to catch."

Felfe smiled, then, and relaxed in Kain's grip, momentarily wondering why the vice grip felt familiar, just a little bit. Kain brought both their arms to Felfe's sides, as if to hold them behind the night-elf's back, and Felfe presently recalled something.

"Why do I feel like you still carry around those handcuffs?" He asked aloud, before he could think better of it.

Kain, oddly, didn't seem the least bit surprised at the question. "At least I found the key."

"So you _do _have them?" Felfe persisted, humoring himself.

"Possibly." Kain said, overly-casual. "And is there a reason you're suddenly interested in them?"

Felfe, playing along, opted for a distraction. "We have a lot of time." Or not.

Kain's eyebrows rose. "Are you implying something?"

"Possibly." Felfe said, in a similar tone as the one Kain had used.

Kain smirked, forgetting to put it on low, and Felfe, already supported by the wall, slumped into it further.

"You shouldn't do that." Felfe muttered, just a little dizzy due to the fact that Kain hadn't stopped smirking yet.

Kain did stop, then, after realizing the effect it was once again having. "You shouldn't do that, either."

"Do what?" Felfe asked, regaining his balance and taking the opportunity to press his back more into the wall in order to not be bodily melded to Kain, in effect.

"I don't know." Kain said absent-mindedly, before recovering and once again acting as if it had been nothing. "Whatever it is that stops me from thinking straight."

'_I don't believe he ever thought straight.' _Felfe's mind commented, completely out-of-the-blue. Felfe would have replied with something, but he felt Mind promptly flee, as if afraid of possible punishment. Fortunately, Felfe wasn't thinking straight either, so he didn't catch on to the subtle pun.

"I'm not doing anything." Felfe protested, smiling. "Really."

"Were you serious about the handcuffs?" Kain inquired on impulse, and Felfe reddened as if on cue.

"You really still have them?" The night-elf countered, a weak block, but it was all that was needed.

Kain wistfully released his hold on Felfe and began searching his pouches. After a moment, he withdrew a set of handcuffs. Felfe was positive that they were the same handcuffs.

"Wow." Felfe said, in order to say something. Now that the handcuffs were right in front of him, he wasn't sure he liked playing along. But he did so anyway. "What about the key?"

Kain took out the rather shiny key, holding it up in full view. It jingled in what should have been a comical sound, but ended up reminding Felfe of some sort of warning noise, like an eerie echo of solitary bells in the distance, attached to a shadowy monster.

Felfe swallowed nervously, hoping he didn't look at all distressed. Oddly enough, he wanted to take the handcuffs away from Kain, maybe so he could throw them off the nearby cliff. Or something like that.

"Obviously you're not serious." Kain pointed out, putting the key back in one of his bags. He gave the handcuffs a fond pat, and observed Felfe biting his lip without realizing it.

Felfe opted out of saying anything that would make him stutter, and shrugged uneasily. Kain dropped the handcuffs back into a pouch, and, after a thought, detached the pouch from his belt and threw it lightly to the other side of the tower.

Felfe, grateful but a little stunned by the show of… generosity?... relaxed quite a bit, but folded his arms anyway, feeling sheepish that Kain had to actually throw the bag that far to make him feel safe again.

"You know I wouldn't use those on you, right?" Kain remarked, contradicting the past as he took to leaning against the wall beside Felfe.

Felfe smiled half-heartedly, eyebrows drifting upwards.

"I mean, not _again_." Kain amended, guilt evident in his voice. "I learned my lesson there."

Felfe nodded, feeling himself smile despite the awkwardness of the topic at hand. "It wasn't all your fault."

"What?" Kain frowned abruptly, confused.

"No, I mean just now." Felfe said quickly, flushing beyond all repair. "I was being silly."

"Oh, yes, now." Kain sighed, relieved. "I thought you… it doesn't matter."

"You know," Felfe gave the ground a significant look. "This shouldn't be so weird."

Kain smirked, back into the usual flow of things. "That's how things work, Felfe."

"I-I know, but…" Felfe bit his lip with too much force, and had to stop from wincing. "Couldn't it be different?"

"What do you mean?" Kain turned slightly to face him more, something in his voice trying to hide, as if behind the mask there were thoughts that he couldn't voice.

"I'm not sure." Felfe admitted, disappointed. "But does it have to be like this?"

"I suppose so." Kain, expression impossible to read, slowly took Felfe's hand in his.

Felfe nearly jumped at the suddenness of it, expecting Kain to begin kissing him right then and there. "What…?"

"Exactly." Kain said carefully. "Things like this are always awkward, aren't they?"

Felfe's troubled expression gave way to a curious look, which he managed to direct in Kain's general direction despite his inability to look him in the eyes. "Maybe we should sleep together…?"

Kain's face went completely blank for a moment, in which Felfe, with dawning horror, realized what he had said. Both of their expressions held similar amounts of stunned surprise along with, on Kain's side, something that could have been well-hidden lust.

"I didn't mean that," Felfe said, as if apologizing profusely. "I was talking about _sleeping_, really!"

Kain's expression gradually became more normal until he smiled slowly, emotional shock taking its toll. He then took Felfe's other hand as well, looking almost weary. "This is an exhausting conversation."

Felfe eventually understood that to be a joke, and felt some of the nervousness drain out of him, relieved that at least there was no misunderstanding anymore. "Speaking of sleeping… this stone doesn't look comfortable."

"No, it really doesn't." Kain said, still sounding tired. "Perhaps we'll end up on the grass."

Felfe's mouth twisted. "That doesn't sound fun, either."

"You can sleep on me if you want." Kain suggested without any real hope of acceptance. "Not that it would be much better what with the armor."

"You're not wearing much armor right now." Felfe pointed out.

Kain abruptly sighed. "I left it out in the field."

"Oh, we'd better get it! What if it rains and all your armor gets rusty?" Felfe insisted worriedly, tugging on Kain by way of their joined hands.

Kain fell into step beside Felfe, their hands still clasped together, and they made their way over to the field where the training had been held earlier that day. There were two respawns that were much two close for comfort, and Kain had to take them out with the practice sword, having left his usual weapon in the tower.

Kain ended up carrying a pile of his extra armor back to the tower, and unceremoniously dumping it onto the stone bricks. Felfe stood there purposelessly, both of them obviously having no plans to do much else. And the sky was only beginning to darken. Sleep would not be a great idea for another couple hours, at the very least.

"How long do you think we'll be hiding out here?" Felfe asked on impulse, sitting down and trying to snuggle into the wall as best he could. Kain sat down beside him with a look that clearly expressed how futile he thought Felfe's attempt was.

"I'm not sure. We could leave sometime tomorrow – afternoon would be best." Kain mused, planning.

"Why afternoon?" Felfe asked, not catching on.

"Shopping." Kain explained simply.

* * *

"This is a magnificent dress, don't you think?" Silya remarked, in her recently acquired high-class tone, which resembled Alyane's. 

She held up an emerald silk dress with layers of chiffon at the hem. It was exactly the right length – right above the knee – and she had a feeling the green was a good color since it matched her eyes. She turned to Alyane with it to see her instructor examining a black satin ensemble with crimson trim.

Alyane gave Silya's dress a quick glance before turning back to her own. "Color, yes, chiffon, no."

Silya didn't let Alyane see her disappointment as she put the dress back in its place and continued browsing the multitude of dresses in the store.

* * *

"Oh. Right." Felfe said, now with crystal-clear understanding. "Do you think, maybe…" 

Kain gave a shrug to the unfinished question, trying to settle into the stone wall as Felfe had, and finding the action as fruitless as it had looked when Felfe tried it.

"Well," Felfe began hesitantly. "Maybe we ought to find somewhere else to hide, if they're still… planning whatever they're planning."

"Somewhere else? I suppose we could take a zeppelin. You won't be able to use the portal device that goes to Silvermoon, of course." Kain mused.

"What about the Barrens? I've heard it's really… empty." Felfe suggested.

Kain forcefully restrained a laugh, but it showed through his voice. "Ha – no, the Barrens wouldn't be a good idea. No nearby food sources, at least not any that serve Alliance. And even then, we wouldn't want to give ourselves away."

"Are the Barrens really that bad?" Felfe asked curiously.

"Naturally," Kain said without a doubt. "I don't think much besides wild animals can live in a place like that."

* * *

"Shiya'maaaaaal…" Liam groaned. "Did you have to scarf the whole freaking zebra? I wanted some of it, too…" 

Shiya'mal gave an extremely satisfied purr in response, at which point Liam only sighed. He cleaned up the remains of the zebra dutifully, digging a shallow hole to bury what little was left. When he finished, he piled on the excess dirt to hide the evidence of his existence, and stalked back into the cave, still frustrated for lack of food.

"Sometimes I wish you were a bird, or something, so you wouldn't take all my food." He pondered aloud, wistful.

Shiya'mal rose, stretched in a very catlike way, and padded over to where Liam was sitting and looking slightly depressed. The large panther gave a soft growl, sounding almost worried. Not guilty, though, never guilty.

"Aww, I'll just kill another one, I don't know. It wasn't _that _hard." Liam said dismissively, reaching out a hand tentatively. Shiya'mal nuzzled it after a moment, and Liam sighed and gave his friend a good scratch behind the ears.

"It's sure easy to tell who's getting the better treatment here, isn't it?" He lamented, withdrawing his hand.

Shiya'mal growled loudly.

"Fine, fine, take it easy…" Liam rolled his eyes and went back to scratching Shiya'mal behind the ears.

* * *

"That sounds tough." Felfe sighed. "I don't think I could live like that." 

"I'm sure you could, given the right circumstances." Kain said encouragingly. "But it would have to be for a better reason than escaping two plotting women."

"I wonder what they were going to do to us." Felfe wondered with a trace of horror.

"I don't like to think about it." Kain said tersely. "Matchmaking women are the greatest threat I've ever faced."

"What about Yuren and Lance? I guess they're kinda like matchmaking women, too?" Felfe pointed out, meaning it in a completely serious way, but not being able to help smiling when he realized what expressions the two might have if they overheard that particular remark.

Kain smirked appreciatively. "I suppose they are."

"Do you think they're worried about us?" Felfe thought suddenly, the idea causing him some overdue guilt.

"Not likely. If they've heard anything from Silya – which, trust me, they have – they'll know that I'm with you." Kain explained, finally looking at ease again since the 'exhausting conversation' earlier.

"No one worries about you, do they? Except me." Felfe asked, envious that Kain was so powerful that he didn't have a whole lot to threaten him.

"That would be correct." Kain admitted, sensing Felfe's wish that he, too, could be indestructible. "Except for one time when I stormed the Eye of Tempest Keep."

"By yourself!?" Felfe gaped, immediately realizing the implication. "Were you going after Kael?"

Hearing Felfe say his ex-lover and present archenemy's name so easily made Kain wince, which was luckily not very noticeable because it looked like it was in response to Felfe's incredulity. "Yes, I was."

"Wow." Felfe said, and then, trying to lighten the mood, changed the topic conspicuously. "Do you think I'll be powerful like you, someday?"

"Of course." Kain said without having to think about it. He fixed Felfe with a puzzled expression, knowing that Felfe didn't exactly feel great about his strength, but not really understanding why Felfe would think there was a possibility that he wouldn't reach the highest level.

"Unless I walk off another cliff before then, right?" Felfe smiled, expression really not fitting with what he was saying.

Kain's expression was half-frown, half-smile for a moment before he schooled it into concerned fondness. "_That _is the reason you think you won't make it? Bad luck?"

"_Really _bad luck." Felfe corrected, still smiling. "You can't say I don't have really bad luck."

"Well, I suppose I can't." Kain conceded, before a thought occurred to him. "You'll be going to Stranglethorn Vale soon, now I think about it."

"Oh, yeah, I guess so. Is it fun?" Felfe asked enthusiastically, having heard that the place had a very tropical climate and a jungle-like setting.

Kain's expression of incredulity made Felfe rethink his words, but Kain spoke first as it was. "Felfe, Stranglethorn Vale is quite possibly the _worst _place I could ever think of sending you."

"It's that bad?" Felfe was stunned. He really didn't think such an exciting, adventure-filled place would be so horrible.

"Shall I make you a list?" Kain asked without really asking, and went on describing all of Stranglethorn Vale's vices. "First of all, there are many, many cliffs."

Felfe giggled, and Kain shot him a more-or-less stern look because he wasn't appreciating the gravity of the statement.

"Second, there are tigers, panthers, crocodiles, raptors, murlocs, basilisks, and angry troll tribes." Kain continued, watching as Felfe's expression grew more horrified with each addition to the list of monsters. At least the night-elf had a more realistic view of the situation when it came to those kinds of dangers.

"And that isn't even the worst of it." Kain said, rather dramatically except for it sounding completely normal for him to say. "In Stranglethorn Vale, it is common practice for higher-level Horde and Alliance to hunt the lower-levels, as in some sort of sporting event. They don't really care who you are – as soon as you're spotted, there's little chance you can escape."

The look on Felfe's face would have been priceless if all that had been a joke, but unfortunately that was just how Stranglethorn was, and as much as Kain would have liked to say, 'just kidding', it was better for Felfe to know of such things.

"W-wow." Felfe said, swallowing a lump of anxiety in his throat. "What do you think is the most dangerous thing?"

"Hmmm." Kain thought, it being a difficult question considering Felfe's luck. "I'm tempted to say the troll tribes."

"Why?" Felfe asked, not sure why the trolls would be any worse than the tigers. Especially since he had a particular fear of anything large and furry that had claws. The most recent examples being bears and mountain lions. And Liam's panther…

"No real reason." Kain said lightly. "I just have this picture in my mind of you being captured and hauled off to some temple…"

Felfe paled. "That doesn't sound good."

"I wouldn't worry too much." Kain placed a comforting hand on Felfe's shoulder, which for once didn't startle him, though it came out of nowhere. "You can expect me to be nearby at all times."

"You'd do that?" Felfe felt relief mixed with guilt, the usual guilt for being so luckless that he had to be rescued all the time.

"I already do that. Do you think I just happened to be taking a walk beneath that cliff?" Kain reminded him, amused.

"Well, I figured you just had really good luck." Felfe shrugged.

"So you have the bad luck to get into all these situations, and I have the good luck to be there in time to save you?" Kain wondered aloud. "It would make a good arrangement, but I doubt it's all luck."

"What do you think it is?" Felfe asked, noticing that his back was beginning to ache due to the stone, and making a mental note to move outside soon and lay on the grass instead.

"Well, for me it's a matter of constant vigilance." Kain smirked. "For you, I don't know. I suppose it could just be luck, but I'm sure you'll move past it eventually."

"Really?" Felfe was surprised by the idea – he'd never imagined that his bad luck would end, or anything like that. He had always figured he'd be the high-level that accidentally aggroed the raid boss by getting too close.

"It's only a matter of time, and training." Kain said conclusively, and wrapped an arm around Felfe's shoulders, pulling him closer.

Felfe tried not to look startled, mainly because the closer to Kain he was, the more comfortable it was. Less surface ratio of night-elf to stone bricks, that way. Which reminded him that he'd have to extricate himself from the embrace, since even as they were, grass would be much more comfortable a seat. Or bed.

"I think we should move to the grass." Felfe suggested on cue, and Kain nodded, withdrawing his arm and getting to his feet. Felfe noticed, with a dose of surprise, that the pouch containing the handcuffs was once again attached to Kain's belt.

"You… er… have the handcuffs with you again?" He asked cautiously, gaze directed to the unassuming pouch.

"I didn't really want anyone to get a hold of them." Kain said simply, offering no better explanation.

"But people wouldn't just take your stuff, would they? I mean, it belongs to you." Felfe commented, partially distracted by moral philosophy.

"Clearly you've never met a ninja." Kain joked, glancing back over his shoulder to give Felfe a reassuring look. "If it makes you uncomfortable, I can leave it here again."

Felfe hesitated for a moment before saying something incredibly stupid. "Can I… can I see it?"

"What?" Kain turned around fully, eyebrows drifting towards his hairline. "I suppose…"

Felfe flushed terribly, knowing that it was a ridiculous idea, but wanting to have the handcuffs in order to prevent Kain from having them, in a sort of immature way of thinking. "Thanks."

Kain handed him the handcuffs, and Felfe looked them over with mixed feelings of unease and curiosity.

"You just wanted to look at them?" Kain's eyebrows had backtracked to their usual spots before one rose again.

"Well, yeah." Felfe said sheepishly. "C'mon, let's go."

And, still carrying the handcuffs in one hand, he left the tower for the outside world, where the sky was darkening, past the sunset but not quite a night sky yet. Kain followed, perplexed as to why Felfe would suddenly want to carry around the handcuffs – it seemed very strange to just… carry them… as if to simply prevent someone else from…

"Felfe, I can leave them in the tower, it's fine." Kain suggested, thinking he understood Felfe's odd logic. He didn't, however, know of Felfe's rather stupid plan.

"Uh, no, it's okay." Felfe said quickly, sitting down. Kain took a seat in front of him, expression slightly suspicious, but figuring that whatever Felfe wanted the handcuffs for, it wouldn't be anything that would get either of them into trouble. Except for Felfe's bad luck, but he couldn't really think of anything that could happen regarding handcuffs. I mean, really. Handcuffs.

Felfe shifted slightly, and Kain sat back a little, resting on his hands. Before either of them realized anything, there were handcuffs clamped onto Kain's wrists, and Felfe was looking guilty.

Kain blinked. "It never occurred to me that you would actually use them…"

"Well, I guess it's revenge." Felfe said, more than a little nervous after pulling such a feat, but at least being able to conceal it better than usual.

"I thought I was the one out for revenge." Kain lamented, but it was obvious that he was joking. "And what exactly are you going to do to me?"

Felfe blushed hotly. "Absolutely nothing."

"Really? Then you might as well just release me." Kain suggested persuasively. "That is, once you find the key."

"The… oh." Felfe deadpanned. "Oh, no, I forgot. Where's the key?"

"One of my bags." Kain said, nodding towards the pouches attached to his belt.

"You don't know which one?" Felfe sighed.

"Not a clue." Kain smirked. At Felfe's doubting look, he shrugged. "I really don't know."

"Well, you can stay in those a little longer, than." Felfe huffed, slightly annoyed that he had forgotten about that little detail. He thought for a moment, and then figured that while he had some spare time – not that this whole trip wasn't spare time – he might as well get ready to sleep, since the sky was darkening rapidly.

He slid off one boot, then the other, and threw them the short distance into the tower. Next went the bracers, since he never bothered wearing gloves, and then, lastly, the leather vest. With that off and thrown into the tower with the rest, Felfe sighed in relief, feeling much more comfortable without all of the discarded equipment, and slightly happy of the fact that his plain white shirt didn't look ridiculous with his pants.

He turned to Kain, who of course was still sitting there, arms useless to him. "I guess I'll help you."

"You'll have to find the key first." Kain reminded him, smirk in place.

"Oh, no, I'm not talking about that." Felfe sat down beside Kain and tugged at his plate armor boots. "I don't think you want to sleep in these."

"That's true." Kain's smirk grew as he stopped himself from adding, 'Is that all you're going to take off?'

Felfe, successful, tossed the sabatons into the tower with the rest of their stuff, and sat back down by the helpless Kain, who was not only bored, but feeling slightly nostalgic, since the last time he had been handcuffed was a very, very long time ago.

"Are you bored enough to release me yet?" Kain inquired, tone mock-polite.

"Nope." Felfe said, delighting in getting his revenge, despite its blandness. "But while we wait for it to get dark, you might as well think of some good reasons for me to let you go."

"You _are _bored." Kain confirmed, getting to be quite bored himself. "How about you let me out because I'll double my revenge if you leave me in these much longer."

"That sounds like a threat." Felfe humored him. "I don't like threats. Think of something else."

"Hmm… these are a little tight on my wrists." Kain appeared to wriggle his arms slightly, obviously not able to extricate himself from the handcuffs. "I believe I may be getting bruised."

"You can heal yourself." Felfe said, not buying it. "And besides, you gave me bruises earlier, and you still haven't healed them."

"I did?" Kain asked, seriously concerned, and momentarily diverted. "From when I jumped on you?"

"Mm hmm." Felfe nodded importantly, with a hint of a smile. "Bruises all over."

"Well, if you let me out of these, I can remedy that." Kain said abruptly, seizing on the stray idea hopefully.

Felfe paused in thought a moment. "All you need to be able to heal is to touch some part of me with your hand, right? I could just go over there and… figure something out."

Kain raised an eyebrow. "You're welcome to try, it should be interesting."

Felfe scowled good-naturedly before moving the small distance to Kain, and sitting right behind him. He contemplated the idea of how to get Kain's hands on him – which sounded like such a strange idea – all the while wondering what position that would have him in.

He could _feel _Kain smirking as he stared at the handcuffed wrists and wondered if he ought to just release him already and make things simpler. But, as per usual, Felfe ended up in the awkward situation.

"Is any place best for healing? Does it have to be exactly where I want the healing to be?" He asked, not knowing anything at all about that sort of thing.

Kain, although tempted to make things more difficult for Felfe, didn't lie. "Virtually anywhere would work, I suppose. It's easier the closer my hand is to the injury, which is why I usually heal things like that."

"But anywhere still works?" Felfe asked, to himself and not Kain. He slipped a hand into Kain's, the action looking quite strange with the handcuffs in place.

Kain sighed. "This might be difficult. Could you tell me where most of the bruises are, so I don't use too much mana trying to find them?"

"I'm pretty sure most of them are on my chest and shoulders, or near there." Felfe said, neglecting to mention that he guessed there were a few on his legs, too. He wasn't all that comfortable with the feeling of being healed as it was.

Kain seemed to concentrate for a minute, and Felfe felt an alien feeling creep up through his arm, like warm water inside him.

"Whoa, t-that's weird…" Felfe winced, trying not focus on the sensation as the liquid holiness settled on his chest and began probing for the bruises. Where it found damage, it soaked into the bruised skin and promptly dissolved. Finally, there was only a small amount of it left, which dissolved into the last bruise on his shoulder.

"You didn't tell me there were more." Kain accused.

"What? But…" Felfe began to protest, wondering how Kain knew.

"You haven't fully recovered your health. It's obvious." Kain explained, not really angry at Felfe withholding information, just concerned as always.

"Well, it's okay. I think I can manage with a few bruises." Felfe said casually, taking his hand from Kain's to prevent any more healing.

"If you say so." Kain conceded. "Now how about taking off those handcuffs?"

Felfe sat down in front of him for a better view of his face. "Are you just bored, or do handcuffs make you uneasy, too?"

"Boredom, fortunately." Kain said, gradually smirking once again.

Felfe's mouth twisted slightly, but he found it interesting that Kain wasn't at all uncomfortable. "I guess I can release you now that I've had my revenge."

Kain, humoring him, smiled innocently, which ended up looking exactly like a smirk anyway. "If you say so."

Felfe hesitated. "So it's in one of these bags."

"That would be correct." Kain confirmed, content now that he was going to be out of the handcuffs soon, though there wasn't much purpose in his desire to be free of them besides restoring his pride.

Felfe bit his lip, stopped himself, and then scooted forward slightly, sitting directly in front of Kain, but still not close enough to reach the pouches. He awkwardly leaned forward to start searching the pouches closest to him, hurrying because of the strange position he was in, which involved extreme Kain proximity and the fact that he might as well have been sitting on Kain's lap.

After searching a couple pouches, he found the elusive key. He was about to get off Kain and go unlock the handcuffs when he suddenly lost his balance in the awkward position, and fell forward into Kain, who wasn't expecting anything to fall into him, and consequently also fell backwards with enough momentum for Felfe, in his surprise, to accidentally lose his grip on the key, which fell into the grass somewhere by Kain's hands.

"Good job." Kain congratulated him, body shaking slightly with restrained laughter.

Felfe scowled. "What are the chances of that?"

He reached into the grass for the key, now probably looking like he was all over Kain, or something like that. His fingers outstretched desperately, he kept searching despite the fact that he was sprawled over Kain, and finally clutched at something solid and key-shaped.

"Whew." Felfe sighed, holding up the key in satisfaction, forgetting for a moment that he was still sitting on Kain. "I found-"

Soft lips on his broke off the sentence, and Felfe found himself not even putting up a show of effort as his mouth was captured by Kain's. He let himself lean in slightly, barely conscious of the fact he was doing so, as their mouths moved together slowly. Kain tilted his head slightly and continued, the kiss slow and intoxicating, almost making him forget what he was doing.

And he did forget, enough so that he managed to drop the key again. When Kain's mouth had left his, and he was thinking again, Felfe realized that the key was no longer in his hand. He groaned.

"Oh, why did you have to do that?" He muttered, blush unimportant when compared to the matter at hand. "Now I've lost it again."

"I think I saw it…" Kain looked down. "Ah. Right."

Felfe followed Kain's gaze to where the key seemed to have caught temporarily on the opening of Kain's collar. "Oh, good, it's right…"

Kain shifted slightly, and by some stroke of bad luck the key fell from its spot at the collar's opening, and unceremoniously fell down Kain's shirt. The two elves said nothing for a moment before Felfe scowled at Kain, just a bit annoyed.

"You did that on purpose." He accused, fidgeting and wondering if he ought to just stick his hand under the chestpiece. Unless, that is, the key had fallen not between the plate armor and the shirt, but between the shirt and skin, in which case…

"I did not." Kain said sincerely, shaking his head slowly. "Although it's possible I would have done it if I'd thought of it."

Felfe rolled his eyes, and sat there for a moment before realizing that he was just prolonging the time he was spending on Kain's lap, and he decided to just take off the plate chestpiece, despite how bad the kilt looked with the white swashbuckler's shirt. Among other potential problems, of course.

"All right, don't you dare laugh at me." Felfe threatened, not sounding threatening at all.

Kain observed the mental debate of Felfe's morals versus Felfe's other morals, and watched Felfe start trying to find some way to take off the chestpiece. "It's the clasp at the collar, and down from that are a few more."

Felfe nodded briskly, ignoring the blush forming on his cheeks. Well, it wasn't exactly forming, as it had been there from quite some time, but it was there. His slightly trembling hands found the first clasp, and undid it, moving down to the next one, and the one after that.

"You better not be enjoying this." Felfe murmured, in an odd mood due to his impeccably bad luck.

"Not at all." Kain said lightly, but his face, if Felfe had glanced upwards, told a different story.

After undoing the chestpiece all the way down the front, Felfe uneasily shoved the garment off Kain, until it caught on the handcuffs on the way down. He sighed, and gave the white swashbuckler's shirt a look of tired annoyance.

"Okay, where is it?" Felfe asked hurriedly, realizing that he had gone past the time limit for being excused of sitting on Kain, and now it just seemed like he had ulterior motives in obtaining the key.

Kain nodded in a vague direction that didn't really help.

"That didn't help." Felfe sighed.

"I can't exactly point to it." Kain countered, not at all distressed by the events.

"At least give me a hint." Felfe said, half-hearted hope evident.

"Well, it's… I think it's right at my stomach." Kain explained, about to shrug but stopping himself. He certainly didn't want the key to do any more migrating.

Felfe sighed once again, and reached down Kain's shirt, took a moment to grasp the key, and extricated hand and key, blushing like a romantic apocalypse was imminent.

"Good job. Don't drop it this time."

It was the only warning before Kain leaned in once more and kissed Felfe thoroughly, velvet lips burning where they touched his, and effectively causing Felfe's head to spin as he tried in vain to maintain his hold on the key.

Kain's lips left his momentarily, and Felfe, recovering his ability to think, attempted to move off of Kain so quickly that he ended up losing his balance yet again and falling a short distance to the ground beside Kain.

"That was cheap." Felfe said defensively, his voice sounding strangely off, his mind devoid of thoughts besides the millions that swarmed in stamped with 'KAIN' on them.

"That was my revenge." Kain admitted, satisfied.

Felfe huffed. "Well, since I went to all the trouble of getting the key, I guess I'll let you go now."

Kain shrugged. "As you wish."

"Don't you want to get out of them?" Felfe asked, incredulous.

"Yes and no." Kain smiled.

"You _did _enjoy that." Felfe said pointedly.

"You didn't?" Kain's eyebrow rose.

Felfe said nothing, making his way to Kain's trapped hands, and inserting the key. He turned it one way, and for a moment was terribly afraid that it wasn't the right key before he realized that he was turning it the wrong way. Trying not to sigh for what felt like the millionth time that evening, he turned the key the other way, effectively unlocking the handcuffs.

Kain shook them off, took his chestpiece from where it now lay on the ground, and began putting it back on, doing up the clasps. "Next time _you _can handcuff yourself, and _I_ can lose the key several times and end up in compromising positions."

Felfe snorted despite himself, picturing the scene reversed. His imagination went far enough that he started laughing, and Kain, his chestpiece fully on again, smirked along with him.

"That was really stupid." Felfe admitted. "I probably shouldn't have even touched those handcuffs."

"Bad luck?" Kain guessed. "I really don't think Stranglethorn is a great idea for you."

"We'll see, I guess." Felfe said noncommittally. "At least we wasted a lot of time."

Indeed, it was now night, and the sky was relatively dark, and getting darker still. Felfe looked up at the night sky, not being able to stop a small smile when he saw all the stars, like sprinkles on a cupcake. He heard Kain pick up the handcuffs, and throw them rather violently into the tower.

Felfe glanced at him tentatively, but Kain only smiled, and shrugged.

They both took a couple minutes to get settled into the grass before weariness set in, and Felfe, inching closer to Kain, rested his head on the blood-elf's shoulder as he drifted off to sleep. Kain slid an arm around Felfe, pulling him closer, until his eyelids closed as well.

* * *

**Poll Question:** What is YOUR favorite pairing of this story? If you can't decide, roll a dice or something. :P 


	6. Chapter 6

**Reviewers: **Wow, lookie here, I'm updating again. Betcha didn't think I'd do it.

**Squigglefish –** Oh, my. You chose _my _story to learn about Warcraft? Hate to say it, but I'm not exactly unbiased. Ahahahaha… wow, I can't believe you wrote that on a desk. I'm honestly honored. Although, of course, I don't encourage the vandalism of school property… but still. I really had no idea that the story could be so well appreciated without knowledge of Warcraft. Just don't tell that to my parents – lack of knowledge is my only excuse to not let them read it…

**Daciamian101 –** Oh, you don't wanna be introduced to their parents, trust me. First of all, I get the feeling that Kain's parents aren't… alive… anymore… Awkward. And Felfe never met his father; he was raised by his mom. I suppose his mom could potentially be in the story, but… I'd have to think about it.

**Sutairuja –** Thanks! And thanks for the cookies, too. They were delicious. I suppose, since you can't decide which pairing is best, it's a good sign? I hope so, ehe.

**JtheChosen1 –** When you said you liked where Felfe's head was at, you did mean figuratively, didn't you? I wasn't quite sure. Don't worry, Kain and Felfe have loooots of time to get the action in (I hear half of you groaning at this). Actually, Felfe's not mad as much as betrayed. I mean, talk about interfering friends…

**GofG –** Rofl. I'm not sure that it doesn't work on gays in general – it might be that Felfe is just _too _gay. And thank you for the compliment – I'm sure he'd appreciate it.

**To Salute –** Hang-up? You mean his trust issues, or whatever they're best called? Hmmm… I suppose I may be the only one who really understands… but eventually it will become clearer (I hope).

**Everlastingwind –** Hehe, you tipped the scale. If it weren't for you, they'd be tied. Good job. And yes… let us all lament together that WoW consumes time otherwise spent writing WoW fanfiction… oh, the irony.

**Nezumii –** My, my! Gratz on being the first person to vote for a non-canon pairing. Yes, I think you already told me you preferred Liam. Makes me a bit sad that you don't care for the main pairing, but hey, whatever floats your boat. And I _do_ like Liam… At least you didn't say MarenMessenger-guy or something like that. /gag

(Please note that I have nothing against straight pairings! Rofl.)

**Conclusion: **After the poll last chapter, the results for favorite pairing are as follows: KainFelfe 4, LanceYuren 3, LiamFelfe 1.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own WoW kthxbai. I don't even own a mic. But I do own my 'creations.' Especially Felfe, Kain, Lance, Yuren, and Guanji. And also Liam, hehehe. And Alyane, and Silya, and Temarr, and… you get the idea. I also own the MORMRIS.

* * *

**Chapter Six**

Silya just couldn't take it any longer. It was getting to be more than an urge, more than that prickly feeling in her brain that kept nagging at her all day long. It was consuming her, begging for some sort of action that she told herself was completely unnecessary and inappropriate. She knew it was wrong, she knew she was probably misinterpreting the situation, and after all, it wasn't her place. But she had to know, and there was only one way to find out.

Her footsteps felt heavier than usual as she padded silently to the door of Alyane's room, at the Silvermoon inn, and hesitated at the doorknob, as if opening it would bring her eternal damnation. She felt like whispering to herself, like some sort of psychotic freak, just to calm herself and drown out the buzzing thoughts in her head.

Gradually she came to realize that she was wasting time standing before the door, and she placed a delicate hand over her eyes for a moment, closing them and wishing that she had never met Alyane. Alyane the Temptress, Alyane the Perfect, Alyane the Matchmaker, Alyane the Indescribably Beautiful.

She turned the knob, and opened the door slowly, holding her breath. As the door eased inwards, she reminded herself to stand up straight, assume a neutral expression, and breathe evenly again. With those accomplished, she slipped into the suite, closing the door despite the sense of doom that infected her.

She walked – no, she _glided_ – with the soft glow of the afternoon sunlight coming through the curtained windows on her, drawing ever closer to the adjoining room, where Alyane would surely be reading, or doing her make-up, or some other section of her beauty routine.

The door to the adjoining room was even more difficult to open than the first, sending spirals of dread throughout Silya's chest. She felt afraid to swallow, but did so anyway, wanting to make sure she looked presentable once she entered.

'_I have to know,' _She repeated to herself, trying to soothe her panic. _'It's for the best.'_

And she opened the door, looking perfectly graceful and aloof, as per her training.

"Alyane? I apologize for the intrusion."

Alyane, sitting on a wine-colored satin chair before a gilded vanity, did not turn awkwardly in her seat. She merely fixed her eyes on the reflection of Silya in the vanity's mirror, and addressed her from there.

"Silya." She purred, hiding the greater portion of her satisfaction with her student's near-perfect entry. "Is there something with which you need assistance?"

"Yes." Silya said simply, keeping her tone level. "I am concerned about a matter which has been occupying my attention recently."

A perfectly-shaped, midnight-black eyebrow rose. "And what is this matter?"

If Silya hadn't known better, she might have thought that Alyane was actually interested. "I am… worried about Felfe."

Actually, this wasn't entirely true. The entire truth was that Silya was worried about Felfe _and Kain_, though she knew her brother was not exactly fragile, and could handle himself in most situations that didn't involve cooking. The reason she was worried, though, was that the two had been gone since yesterday morning, and it was now afternoon. It was a long enough absence that many members of the Horde were becoming slightly anxious, as they all knew how Kain had gotten more… forgetful… lately. Rumors were flying, and all-in-all, people were concerned about whether the next raid was still on the schedule. It didn't help that it was a Tempest Keep raid.

And it wasn't entirely that, either – at some level, Silya couldn't care less for the reason all the Horde was concerned over Kain's absence. Truly, Silya was wondering if Kain had packed enough food, because if he hadn't, he was probably starving by now, especially if he had to share food with Felfe in the first place.

She had said 'Felfe' in order to gain Alyane's full attention, because though there was little evidence, it seemed almost as if the seductive blood-elf had a soft spot, of all things, for him. It was not the kind of sighing, romantically sweet love that would have made Silya gag if it were applied to Alyane and Felfe, not at all. It was more like the affection one felt for one's cat, or one's pet whelpling. Due to her knowledge of this, Silya used Felfe's name alone to make the matter more personally important to Alyane, which guaranteed Alyane having a greater desire to help.

"It _has_ been a long time." Alyane said ponderingly, but there was an odd mix of emotions in her voice. It seemed like she was attempting to express her affectionate love for Felfe on one hand, but there was slight underlying disappointment in the background. Very strange.

Silya waited, with the appearance of complete patience, as Alyane took her time in digesting the 'matter' over which Silya was so worried. She didn't try to interject or hurry her teacher, since she had done that before with less-than-pleasing results. And she knew that, sooner or later, Alyane would finish examining the situation, and would surely express her thoughts as to what the best course of action would be.

That moment came surprisingly quickly, despite the undertone of much-too-casual tiredness, as Alyane actually took the time to rise gracefully to her feet and cross the distance of a few feet to stand – no, float – before Silya. "We do have a messenger to alert us of their return, so I would say you should not worry. However…"

Alyane didn't tend to trail off in her sentences, so Silya could tell that either (1) she was trying to make an unusually dramatic impression, or (2) something was really bothering her. Silya opted for number one, because she couldn't wrap her mind around number two being possible.

Possible or not, it seemed like Alyane really was hung up on something, whatever it was, as she replied uncertainly, "We could seek them out, I suppose."

Silya brightened visibly, but managed to restrain herself from immediately and enthusiastically acquiescing. "Is it possible that we could find them?"

"Hmmm." Alyane said ambiguously. "It is possible. If we know where to look."

The Temptress seemed to regain a more complete hold on herself, then, and she gave Silya a nod of finality. "You may go prepare for the trip. I will meet you at the gate shortly."

Silya curtsied deeply, and, when she rose back to her feet, said something not without risk. "I have one last request, if I may."

Alyane's eyes, pools of mysteriously swirling emerald, narrowed slightly, but she appeared almost curious as she conceded. "You may."

Silya gave Alyane a level look, but beneath it, just visible, was hope. "May I express myself, as a friend, for just a moment?"

Alyane seemed to stiffen, barely noticeable to the casual observer, and she said quietly, nearly too quiet to be heard, "This is why I did not apprentice you, at first…"

Silya froze, eyes widening slightly before she managed to school her expression.

"But you may." Alyane finished, seeming to relax at that moment. She donned an almost calculating smile, watching Silya unfreeze and smile awkwardly, freed of her training's regulations temporarily.

"Well, I…" Silya stepped forward, into Alyane's realm of personal space, and nearly winced, feeling like she was trespassing.

Alyane raised an elegant eyebrow, no doubt wondering what Silya was thinking. "Even as a friend, I think I should say that incomplete sentences are irritating."

Silya flushed in humiliation, but bravely looked back up at her usual-teacher, presently-friend. "I just wanted to thank you. For putting up with me."

The blonde looked like she wanted to reach out and hug Alyane, or something of the sort, not so much as a gesture, but because she missed the feeling of being comforted. Lately, since she had begun her training, it had become the norm to restrain oneself from engaging in any sort of unnecessary physical contact, in order to maintain the guise of mystery and apathy that was required to be the Ice Queen that Alyane apparently was, despite the nature of her seductive talents. Her aim was to ensnare men, to capture them, but never to covet them. It was an odd desire, but Silya felt as if she, too, could find solace in it, which was why she had been so desperate to become Alyane's apprentice.

Regardless of her motive, it was just a little too obvious that Silya had been about to make some sort of friendly gesture, and Alyane was sharp enough to see through the overly-grateful façade that Silya had put up hastily in order to hide her blunder.

"It is all right, we are friends in this moment, are we not?" Alyane said softly, smiling at Silya in nearly the same way she looked at Felfe, but slightly differently.

Silya's face was a blank slate as she wondered why Alyane seemed so accepting of her suddenly. Perhaps it was difficult for her, too, to exist without comforting gestures from anyone else. But mainly, she pondered the idea of just doing something impulsively for once – it had been her worst trait, impulsiveness – even though it could cause her trouble later on.

She had always been impulsive, so she put her luck on it, just this once. "Are we?"

She had expected Alyane to react to this with dismissal, with scorn perhaps, or with casual acceptance, as seemed her present mood. But she hadn't expected Alyane's eyes to warm suddenly.

"Yes. We are." The raven-haired goddess whispered, ruby lips turning up at the edges slightly.

Silya stood there, heart-pounding, with a face like Blackrock Depths had frozen over, as Alyane wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close, into an embrace so warm that Blackrock Depths couldn't possibly have frozen over. With this contradiction of heat and coldness, fire and ice, Silya felt like it was a very dramatic moment, and she inwardly – and probably outwardly – savored the embrace, because she felt like it was right somehow, the way it felt. The simple realization meant more than she could have imagined, then.

Alyane withdrew, hands leaving Silya as if tainted somehow, but delightfully so. "You must go and get ready. We will find them if it is at all possible." Her smile was still there.

Silya merely smiled in return, unsure what she should say, and then, to avoid more awkwardness that was sure to follow, turned and opened the door.

"Silya," Alyane called out in a tone that faltered slightly before she recovered it.

Silya spun around, bemused by her friend's unusual behavior.

"When I meet you at the gate," She began quietly, eyes set directly on Silya's, trapping her in a gaze filled with something hidden. "I will be your teacher again, and you will be my apprentice."

Silya's eyes, then released from Alyane's captivating presence, directed their gaze to the floor. "Of course."

* * *

"I feel terrible." Yuren muttered, and this was quite significant, because Yuren _never _said anything about his _feelings_, at least not without sarcasm. Lance felt gratified that Yuren would say something so sincere in his presence, but at the same time, he had to feel guilty. After all, neither of them would be in such a pathetic situation if it hadn't been for Lance's idea. 

"I suppose we deserve it." Lance said quietly, feeling like he was sulking, but not admitting it to himself.

They both sat at the rather large table in the ballroom, Lance sipping hot cocoa, and Yuren sitting beside him sipping nothing. A tray of strangely untouched cookies lay on the table in front of them. Lance had made them, without Yuren's supervision, and neither of them felt like trying any.

Overall, it was clear that, for the two of them, it was going to be a bad day.

"Shouldn't we go look for them?" Lance wondered aloud, for what must have been the fiftieth time that day. And it was only afternoon.

"_I don't know_." Yuren hissed, hating that question because he had heard it fifty times that day, and he absolutely loathed pointless repetition.

"I think we should." Lance mumbled into his cocoa, also for the fiftieth time. Although, not all of the times had involved hot cocoa, since he hadn't been drinking it all day.

Yuren sighed in exasperation, looking strangely tired for an undead. "Maybe we ought to _get going_, then."

Lance glanced at him in surprise, since Yuren hadn't made any sort of reply the last forty-nine times he had suggested looking for Kain and Felfe. "All right. Let's go."

"Wait a minute," Yuren said irritably. "I haven't made lunch."

"That shouldn't be a problem." Lance said without thought. "We can always buy some on the way to wherever we search."

Yuren was silent for a moment, before his voice took on the deadliest tone Lance had ever heard. "_Buy some?_"

"What? It's not-"

"_Buy some, Lance? BUY SOME?_"

Lance blinked, wondering how best to placate Yuren, whose eyes had begun to glitter with an outraged light. His rage bar was probably filling up at that very moment. Lance realized that he was in danger, and quickly stepped forward, closer to the possible dangerous source, in order to carry out what he figured would make Yuren lose some steam.

Yuren was fuming, as if about to explode and go on some rant about buying food as supposed to cooking it. Lance was lucky enough that he got through into Yuren's personal space, as Yuren typically hated people getting close to him. Lance was now, sometimes, an exception. Sometimes.

As Yuren opened his mouth to speak, most likely in a very intimidating shout, Lance seized his friend by the shoulders, and hastily moved in to kiss him.

Yuren changed expressions immediately, face a mix of horror and pending humiliation. In vain he squirmed, trying to get out of the paladin's grip, but Lance, refusing to give up, showered him with kisses, wherever he could get them in. Yuren winced as both of his cheeks and, once, his forehead, were repeatedly kissed as he struggled, and as Lance kept missing his target.

Eventually, Lance got tired of this and scowled at Yuren, who was semi-satisfied in that Lance had stopped trying to kiss him, and therefore only narrowed his eyes in annoyance, making no further attempt to move, though he greatly wished for Lance's hands to not be clutching his shoulders tightly.

"Are you done?" Yuren asked sarcastically, part of him delighting in the chance to use said sarcasm, which wasn't used as often in the presence of Lance, mostly because the aura of Lance's devotion tended to make him feel safer, as if he was wearing more armor than usual, or something.

"Yes." Lance said, almost happily.

"Good. Can you _get your hands off me_, then?" Yuren growled. Physical contact really wasn't something that affected him positively, or so he told himself.

"Of course," Lance said, and then paused suddenly, sniffing the air. "Did you shampoo your hair, or something?"

Yuren unconsciously allowed Lance to lean in closer, presumably to smell his hair, as he denied the possibility. "What? No, I-"

Lance seized his chance, and moved the remaining couple inches to kiss Yuren directly on the mouth, cutting off the rest of the sentence with soft, pliable, human lips. Yuren was more-or-less forced to take it, being that he was caught off guard at first, and by the time he realized that he had been tricked, he had been thoroughly kissed for quite some time, and there was really no point in struggling when the end was near. After all, humans didn't have unending breath.

Yuren was right – the end came quickly. Lance, somewhat out of breath, eased off the kiss, mouth leaving Yuren's hesitantly before he at last withdrew, visibly triumphant but lacking breath.

Yuren wasted no time in forcefully taking Lance's hands off his shoulders while the paladin was still recovering some breath, in order to gain the upper hand. Lance let him, having made his point and fully distracted Yuren from his previous anger. And he didn't seem to mind that Yuren was fixing him with a completely disgusted expression.

"What have you been doing, taking lessons from Kain?" The undead asked, irritated, but not outright angry.

Lance frowned at the implications Yuren was making, but nevertheless said sincerely, "Of course not. I was expressing my affection for you."

Yuren rolled his eyes. "No need to be _shy_, now."

Lance turned his frown into a slight smile. Luckily for him, he was one of the only people not turned off by Yuren's constant bad mood. Or, as Lance mentally called it, 'Yuren being normal.' He wasn't the slightest bit bothered by it.

"Yuren, you're the best thing that ever happened to me." Lance said, newly cheered by his recent 'success'.

Yuren's face went blank, and after a moment, he said quietly, and quite seriously, "I'm sorry to hear that…"

"No, I didn't mean-" Lance cut himself off, beginning anew. "I enjoy your company, I didn't mean that I've had a terrible life or anything."

"You… enjoy my company?" Yuren stated, not asked, with a certain amount of disbelief. "_Why_?"

"I thought we already discussed this…?" Lance wondered aloud.

"Well, _pardon me_ for not remembering!" Yuren scowled.

"That reminds me…" Lance paused, recalling something that they had both not remembered. "Weren't we going to look for Felfe and Kain?"

* * *

Felfe and Kain were, despite the number of people worrying about them, perfectly fine. More than fine, actually. In a way, the day before had been a sort of bonding time, as all time tended to be with them. And Kain was feeling just lovely about his situation, since at present he had a sleeping Felfe cuddled up against him, and he was taking time to savor the feeling before Felfe (eventually) woke up. He happened to know that Felfe typically slept in late in the mornings, so he was even more satisfied because he could conclude that he had a long time to savor. 

He didn't really know what the day would bring. Perhaps they ought to escape to somewhere else? But in the light of day, soothed by the passage of time, the threat that was all their friends didn't seem nearly so dangerous. In fact, he was beginning to think that he and Felfe could return to the mansion in the afternoon without further trouble. After all, surely everyone had learned their lessons by now.

And if they hadn't, well, his hearthstone was usable again, and they could always flee somewhere else. Being on the run with Felfe really wasn't all that bad – because it was Felfe. Felfe, who most of the time seemed to be ridiculously content with life, despite… what had his past been like, anyway?

'_It's strange… I've never asked him anything about his past.' _Kain pondered the topic, curious, and slightly horrified that all this time, he had been periodically talking about the things in his past that bothered him, but he hadn't given Felfe an opportunity to do the same. Perhaps the right time just hadn't come yet. He wasn't exactly going to interrogate the unsuspecting night-elf. Maybe things would just work out eventually to his advantage, and he'd have an opportune moment to ask.

He felt Felfe's warm body stir, and delicate – Felfe would frown if he heard Kain describe him so – arms wrapped around him more tightly. Felfe snuggled into him, in a way that was so cute that some sort of hack should have been involved. He had been doing that practically all night, the cuddling, as far as Kain had been awake. And it was possibly one of the nicest feelings Kain had ever experienced. And Kain had definitely had more than his share of nice feelings.

Maybe they could go to Stranglethorn Vale… he could more-or-less leave Felfe to his own devices so the night-elf could go on quests and… all sorts of 'exciting adventures' like that. Of course, _he _would always be nearby in case of – or, rather, expecting – trouble. It had the potential to be a good idea, given that Felfe was nearly the right level for the place, due to their recent training. And it would be the perfect escape, because no one would expect _Lord Kain _to flee to some remote jungle area. And those who knew him better wouldn't doubt that he would hide there, but would certainly wave off the possibility if they knew Felfe would be with him.

Because no one in their right mind would take someone with luck _that _bad into Stranglethorn, where even normal people tended to experience bouts of an almost jinxed existence – that is, if they weren't taken out by monsters or members of the opposite faction, first.

Contrary to Kain's expectations, Felfe stirred, then, and rolled away from him. Kain sat up, disappointed by the sudden departure of both warmth and Felfe. Felfe sat up slowly, rubbed his eyes, and noticed Kain staring at him with a rather forlorn expression.

"Oh. Good morning." Felfe said, and yawned.

Kain smiled, despite his lingering disappointment. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah." Felfe said, for once not too embarrassed that he had spent the night sleeping on Kain. "Thanks."

"Thanks?" Kain echoed, amused. "The pleasure was all mine."

"Now you're making it sound like a big deal." Felfe said, smiling back. He stretched his arms, making a face, before rising to his feet and brushing off his clothes habitually.

Kain followed suit, rubbing his aching back, which was basically his fault for sleeping in plate armor, even if he wasn't fully geared. "So, what do you feel like doing today?"

"Today?" Felfe asked, more to give himself time to think than anything. "I don't know. I guess we should go somewhere else?"

"Well, there's nowhere more secluded than here, if that's what you're saying." Kain teased, feeling the urge to do something, whether it was just patting Felfe on the back, or hugging the life out of him, or… well… But he didn't want to scare him.

"That's true, this place is pretty deserted." Felfe nodded. "I suppose we could just stay here."

Kain, realizing that Felfe hadn't caught on to his implication, sighed, although he wasn't at all put off by it; on the contrary, it was one of the things he loved about Felfe. "We don't have any food."

"Oh. Right." Felfe frowned, thinking. "Maybe one of us should head to a town and buy more…?"

He said it as if there was an option of him going by himself, as if he could make it past the Cursed Paladins and through an ocean and by camps of Murlocs, and then make it safely to the inn and all the way back to the island without being kidnapped or found by Silya and Alyane, or even Liam. Kain knew that Felfe, on his own, was a bad idea. So he assumed that when Felfe said 'one of us', he meant Kain. Which was more reasonable.

Except that that would mean leaving Felfe alone on the deserted island with around forty Cursed monsters. Which didn't sound like a good idea at all. So Kain was in favor of suggesting a better idea.

"I think," He began cautiously, knowing that Felfe didn't like being reminded of how weak he was. "It would be best if we stuck together."

Felfe frowned again, looking down at the ground. "Yeah… but what are we gonna do?"

Kain had an idea, but he wasn't positive it would work very well, at best. "Do you feel rested?"

"Rested?" Felfe asked, caught by surprise by the question. "A little, I guess."

"Good." Kain smiled, guilt visible in his eyes. "Are you up for a lot of walking?"

Felfe tilted his head to one side slightly, questioning. "I… guess…?"

Kain looked a little less guilty, but nevertheless he hesitated as he announced, "We're going to Stranglethorn."

* * *

"We will start by returning to the mansion to consult with Lancelot." Alyane said softly, wearing a tasteful wine-colored hood that matched her robes. Not only was she strict about modesty, but in Silvermoon City, even at the gates, she was careful not to stand out too much, because if she had walked the short distance from the inn to the gates without the hood, there would have been guards drooling all over themselves. 

Silya only wished she had the same kind of allure, but she still wore a hood much like Alyane's, because it was the thought that counted. She didn't reply to Alyane's statement, nodding instead, because now they were teacher and student, and she wasn't supposed to make idle conversation, or say anything that wasn't needed or at least well-fabricated.

It was a very silent walk through Silvermoon City, to the grand building in which was located the translocation device that would teleport both of them to Undercity. The building was breathtakingly beautiful, as expected of blood-elven architecture, but Silya barely spared it a glance as she walked beside Alyane. She wasn't supposed to gawk at anything. People were supposed to gawk at _her_.

They walked through the first room and to the back of the place, making their way up the winding stair-like path to the platform with the translocation device, a large, magnificent orb supported by gold, swirling vine-like arms.

The two of them stood there, and after a moment, when Alyane did not place her hand on the orb, Silya did so. Unexpectedly, their hands brushed as they both reached for the orb, and Silya's hand flinched away, letting Alyane warp first. She stopped her hand from twitching once after that, in order to not let Alyane see her weakness. It really shouldn't have surprised her that much.

Alyane only spared Silya a nod and a slight, mysterious smile before she was translocated to the Undercity courtyard where the other orb was.

Silya sighed in relief, for this was one of the first times she had been alone besides in her sleeping quarters, and then dutifully placed her hand on the orb to start the warp. Her hand twitched, and she let it, because Alyane wasn't there to see.

She sighed again, just to get that heavy feeling out before she rejoined her teacher. Or, more correctly, her master. Although she figured Alyane would narrow her eyes if she heard herself being called that, especially directly. For some reason, though, it almost seemed like a more appropriate title, since Alyane was so intimidating that she seemed more of a 'master' than a 'teacher'. And even though Silya typically called her 'Alyane' even when she was a student, the idea of calling her 'master' didn't seem all that ridiculous. Alyane was just _like_ that.

Silya felt the odd sensation of being translocated, and arrived, in a very dignified way, next to Alyane, who had thoughtfully moved out of the way of the warp-space, since if she hadn't, Silya would have collided with her awkwardly, and that certainly would have been problematic, because one or both of them would have looked quite stupid for a few moments, and that was not acceptable.

"Come along." Alyane said curtly, a flitting, graceful hand waving for Silya to follow her. Silya complied smoothly, nodding and settling into her usual pace, matching Alyane's and gliding exactly two feet behind her and one foot to the left. It was almost like a battle position.

"Will we, perhaps, be enjoying the delightful cooking of Yuren?" Silya asked, tone polite, as they stepped into the elevator.

"There is a significant chance that we will." Alyane affirmed airily. The elevator's doors closed ominously.

Alyane waited, gracefully as always, as the elevator began its descent. Silya stood beside her, somewhat less composed, because that was inevitable due to Alyane's mastery of technique. They remained in silence, as usual.

The elevator gave a sudden lurch, throwing Silya at the doors rather violently.

"Ah!" She gasped as she managed to throw her arms out in time to stop her head from hitting the closed doors. She took a deep breath to get her heart beat back to normal, and tried to stand as smoothly as possible, despite the situation.

Alyane, who had also not expected the odd movement, rose to her feet. It appeared that she had been thrown forward in the same way, as she was rubbing her arms in an unconscious way. A woman of lesser dignity would have winced.

Silya had already done her wincing while Alyane wasn't watching, so she could stand there calmly and say, quite sincerely, "Are you all right?"

"I will be fine." Alyane said, a tinge of annoyance in her voice. She probably blamed the elevator for causing her to fall down for the first time in five years, or something like that. In her mind, Silya was slightly amused by the idea, but she was sobered by the thought that Alyane could be hurt. By the fall, not by Silya mentally laughing at her.

"Are you positive?" Silya pressed, despite the feeling that Alyane really just wanted her to forget the situation ever happened.

"Yes." Alyane said curtly, walking forward carefully to examine the elevator doors. They obviously weren't going to open.

Silya frowned, masking the greater feelings of horror and dread that had arisen in her when she realized that the elevator was stuck. She had intended to say something regarding it, but hadn't been composed enough to think of a well-worded sentence.

Alyane withdrew from the doors and leaned, still graceful, against the wall of the elevator. "We may be delayed."

Silya nodded, inwardly knowing that by 'delayed', Alyane was saying that they were going to be stuck in the elevator for a very, very long time. And she wasn't allowed to whine about it, which was possibly more painful than actually being stuck in the elevator.

She figured that, if they were stuck long enough, she would probably lose her mind. Normally, staying composed took enough concentration, but keeping up the façade with Alyane being able to watch her for an extended period of time without any breaks… She would be forced to keep her guard up at all times. And that was going to kill her.

Sure, she could always ask permission from Alyane to regress to being friends for a minute or two, but if she had no real reason except to escape being an apprentice, Alyane would no doubt be less than pleased. But she was going to try it anyway.

Apparently, she must have looked anxious right then, because Alyane noticed quickly. "You have permission to relax."

Silya stared rather 'rudely' at her teacher before asking, "In what way?"

Alyane's expression was a thinly disguised smile. "You may speak frankly, if you prefer."

"Thanks." Silya heaved a sigh of relief. _'The tension was killing me…'_

She then took a seat on the floor, still trying to put up an appearance of effort, despite giving her mind a rest from 'dignified speech', and pulled down her hood so she didn't feel stifled. She was stunned when Alyane sat down next to her, albeit somewhat more gracefully, and took down her own hood.

"Please close your mouth." Alyane more-or-less commanded, though she said it more softly than usual, as if she, too, was relaxing, at least a little.

Silya stopped gaping and looked down at her lap, humiliated. She started examining her nails with great interest, noting how the crimson paint was fading from the edges slightly. She would have to redo the paint soon, or it might start looking less-than.

"Silya, there does not happen to be anything you wanted to discuss with me…?" Alyane inquired, her tone oddly different somehow, but indescribably so.

"Not really." Silya said, more-or-less truthfully. Besides the fact that she was always nervous around her teacher, and she didn't think she was getting much better at the whole apprentice thing. Besides those, nothing much came to mind.

Alyane smiled, amused. "I was afraid you wouldn't catch that."

"Catch what?" Silya asked automatically. And then it occurred to her that Alyane had been joking. Alyane, joking. It was really weird. And she hadn't noticed at all, because who in the world expected Alyane to throw out random jokes suddenly?

"I do not exercise my humor enough, apparently." Alyane said dryly, this also being a 'new' tone for her.

Silya eyed her uneasily. "Did something happen to you? Were those Telaari grapes okay?"

Alyane stared at her blankly – although, for her, it looked more like a calculated silence – before saying, somewhat affronted. "I, too, have times when I let down my guard."

Silya, while being surprised that Alyane would admit it, had already guessed as much. "But you don't _seem_ that different than usual."

"It's a matter of expression rather than grace." Alyane explained, and Silya, when she took the time to analyze the way her teacher was sitting, and how she spoke without, presumably, much thought… it did make sense. Perhaps this was just how a relaxed Alyane acted.

"Wow, I'd hate to see you when you're really _trying_ to be dignified." Silya said, not loudly like she would have once, but loud enough.

"You still have much to learn, clearly." Alyane said, a touch of wistfulness in her expression. She studied Silya for a moment, watching her expression turn to disappointment.

"So I can be like you, right?" Silya finished the sentence, daring to say the unspoken words that floated in the air between them.

For some reason, Alyane didn't seem offended by this so much as mysteriously withdrawn. Suddenly, she seemed more cautious, like she had some reason to stop letting herself talk freely. Was someone trying to overheard them? That was pretty ridiculous – they were probably halfway down the elevator shaft. No one would hear them, even if they screamed.

After a moment's silence, Alyane replied guardedly, "That is the idea, yes."

Silya could hear in her teacher's tone that she really meant to say 'no.' She wanted to ask why this was, why Alyane thought that she couldn't be like her. But, as usual, even in casual conversation she strayed away from being too bold with her words, and it was implied that this particular subject was a touchy one.

So she waited. She waited and tried not to fidget, despite being able to speak as she wished. She didn't have anything useful to say, and, because of her training, wasn't inclined to talk just for the sake of talking. At least, not to Alyane.

Alyane, on the other hand, didn't seem at all discontented with waiting in silence. She had some sort of magnificent skill that allowed her to sit still and fix her gaze on the elevator doors, meanwhile appearing serene and calm. It was as if she was meditating, or maybe sleeping with her eyes open.

At the moment, Silya figured that that would be a pretty useful skill, and she was wondering if she would ever be able to do it. What had Alyane meant, anyway? 'That is the idea'… It was almost like she wasn't even encouraging it. Shouldn't a teacher encourage her student to do their best? It just wasn't right. Like she was expected to fail. No, not expected, even. It was as if Alyane _hoped _she would just give up.

Silya faked a yawn to cover for her impending sigh. It mostly worked, and since Alyane didn't appear to be looking at her, she had good reason to judge that it had. Good thing, too. Alyane was altogether too good at reading people, and if the sigh had escaped…

'_She can probably read my mind, anyway.' _Silya lamented to herself, suppressing another sigh well enough that she didn't have to yawn again. Which would have been conspicuous anyway.

She glanced cautiously at her teacher, and saw her sitting there in the exact same position, still watching the elevator doors with an expression of utmost patience.

* * *

"Is it just me, or is it taking longer than usual?" Lance asked, still in something of a good mood due to avoiding Yuren's earlier fury. 

They stood before the closed doors of one of the two elevators in Undercity. Actually, it would be more correct to say that they _had been _standing before the closed doors of one of the two elevators in Undercity – for quite some time, too. And it seemed like the elevator was never going to come down.

"Figures. They probably never fixed it the _first_ time." Yuren scowled, fully aware that the elevator had broken recently, due to the fact that he had been in it when it broke. And Lance had been with him. Interesting connection there.

"Should we just go over to the other one?" Lance suggested amiably.

"What, and have _it _break, too?" Yuren snapped. "Thanks, but I'd rather _not _spend the next two hours trapped in an elevator with you. It was bad enough the _first_ time."

"What are we going to do, then?" Lance inquired carefully, letting Yuren make the decisions, as things tended to be easier that way.

Yuren, already stalking off towards the Magic Quarter, didn't even bother turning around as he growled, "I'm going to give those _technicians_ a talking-to."

Lance, automatically following his friend, considered the fact that the possibility of them actually getting the elevators fixed was close to none, but then reassessed the probability when he factored Yuren's irritation into the equation, and felt better about it.

It wasn't long before they stood in front of the head of Maintenance, Bethor Iceshard. He wasn't quite as intimidating as an undead usually was, because he was wearing a rather exquisite dress in pink and white, with tasteful gold jewelry. Yuren must have been witness to the sight before, because he didn't seem at all disturbed by it.

Bethor turned to Yuren and bowed as he approached, sparing Lance only a quick glance in which it was clear that he was not welcome. "Why, what a surprise, Commander Yuren."

"Oh, I've been meaning to pay you a visit for quite some time, Mr. Iceshard." Yuren drawled, in a somewhat more polite tone than usual, but not by much.

"Is there something with which I can assist you?" Bethor asked levelly, eyeing Lance like he was trying not to smell something nasty before returning his gaze once more to Yuren.

"As a matter of fact, there is." Yuren said, sarcasm evident but not used in overdose as usual. "The elevator is still broken, and I have reason to assume that the _other_ won't be far behind."

"Ah, the elevators." Bethor 'hmm-ed', scratching his chin. "You'll be better off talking to Adrian Barlett – he's in charge of transportation maintenance."

Yuren's hand twitched, but he nodded to Bethor. "Right. And where can I find him?"

"Oh, he's right over there," Bethor pointed vaguely to his left. "By the warlocks summoning Felsteeds."

Lance shot Yuren a puzzled look that wasn't returned as the now even more annoyed warrior headed towards a circular stone surface surrounded by what looked like the same acid that was in the gutters everywhere. A Felsteed and Felhunter stood side-by-side on the summoning platform, with four warlocks standing on the outer rim of the circle, by the short paths leading to it. Adrian was one of the warlocks.

Yuren went up to him without any sort of introductive gesture and demanded, "I suppose you're the one in charge of the elevators?"

Adrian shook his head, long, greasy hair swinging. "Me? No, I'm in charge of transportation maintenance. Pierce Shackleton is the guy you want. He usually does the maintenance in the main area of Undercity."

"_Thanks._" Yuren growled, and stomped off, leading Lance through various halls until they ended up in a circular room occupied by three mages and three warlocks. Pierce was the mage with what looked like two belts crisscrossing his face, right over both his eyes.

Lance muttered, "Wonder how he maintains _anything _if-"

"Shut _up_." Yuren hissed as they approached.

"Why, hello there, Commander Yuren." Pierce said, voice nasal and droning. "What can I do for you?"

"I'd like at least_ one_ of the elevators fixed. _Immediately_." Yuren ordered, losing his patience with the whole process of lodging complaints. "Think you could do that for me?"

"The elevators?" Pierce echoed, voice grating on Lance's ears. "I am unfortunately not in charge of them anymore, after the accident."

"The accident?" Lance asked conversationally, sensing some sort of story lurked behind the simple words.

"_Enough,_ Lance." Yuren snarled, and then faced Pierce again, not that the mage could tell the difference much, and began talking in a very slow and exacting tone, like it was taking him energy not to go Fury on everyone then and there. "Could you tell me… _who is?_"

"I believe upstairs maintenance was passed to Gerard Abernathy. He's south of the weapon dealers in the War Quarter, as far as I can recall." Pierce said, nodding in a satisfied way, with contrasted with how furious Yuren was getting.

"Right. Thanks." Lance said hurriedly, running after Yuren, who had left without a word.

Lance caught up to hear his friend talking in mutters, saying things like, 'maintenance these days' and 'never would have stood for it in my day'. He gave Yuren a pat on the shoulder, which Yuren nearly bit his hand off for, and then settled for walking beside him.

They reached Gerard quickly, and saw him standing with two other undead, a human woman beside him. Lance's eyebrows raised at the sight of another human in Undercity.

"Wow, I didn't think…" Lance trailed off, mouth dropping open as he saw the blindfold over the woman's eyes.

Gerard turned to the newcomers and fixed Lance with a hungry stare. He then belatedly noticed Yuren standing there, arms folded, looking furious.

"He's _mine_. Back off." Yuren hissed, eyes flashing.

Lance's jaw dropped again, and he had a hard time trying to stop his shocked expression as Yuren seized him and commanded sharply, "How many times do I have to tell you, you walk_ behind me_!"

"You have yourself a rebellious one there." Gerard said cautiously. "Could really use one of these." He gestured to his golden staff, which the blindfolded woman seemed to be staring at, although it was clear she couldn't see.

"I prefer mine _sentient_." Yuren growled menacingly.

"All right, all right." Gerard nodded complacently, but it was clear that he preferred for humans in Undercity to be 'rightfully' enslaved, instead of running loose. "So what brings you here, if not your slave? I don't suppose you want to buy? 'Cause I'm not planning on letting go of Theresa, here."

"Not at all." Yuren said, disgusted. "I'm here because I need an _elevator_ fixed."

"Oh, those? Did they break again?" Gerard asked curiously, like he really didn't care either way.

"_Yes_, as a matter of fact, they _did_." Yuren said, still irritated. But Lance, knowing Yuren better than most did, saw that the he was growing tired, and was less likely to go into a rage.

"All right, I'll have to fix them." Gerard said vaguely, nodding like just saying it was a deed in itself.

Yuren tapped his foot impatiently, and when the other undead didn't go on, inquired, "_Now?_"

"Oh, you mean you need it fixed now?" Gerard looked surprised, as if he was never expected to do anything promptly, in any meaning of the word.

"_YES._" Yuren exclaimed, by now not only unamused but desperate.

"Fine, fine, I'm going." Gerard conceded. He led the way out to the main area of Undercity, up the stairs, and to the elevator in question. 'Theresa' followed him sluggishly, always facing the staff on his back despite being blindfolded.

"What is she?" Lance whispered, from right behind Yuren.

"Quiet. You're my slave, remember?" Yuren whispered, obviously drained of sarcasm for a while, or at least not feeling like it was worth it to use it on Lance, who didn't care anyway.

Lance didn't bother replying, instead following Yuren and trying to look mindless. Although that wasn't exactly effective, seeing as Yuren had already made it clear that he didn't do that to his slaves. Which made Lance wonder why this other guy believed Yuren so easily… Were humans really never friends with undead? Well, wait, of course they weren't. Different factions and everything.

'_Poor Felfe. He didn't know what he was getting us into. I'll never be the same again…' _Not that it was precisely Felfe's fault. Nor was his knowing Yuren actually connected to Felfe, except by cause-and-effect, which was as good as blaming destiny. But Lance was fine with blaming destiny.

"Huh. This is really weird." Gerard yelled from the area below the elevator. "The mana is all distorted, like a bunch of people messed around with it."

"That would be the work of blood-elves." Yuren said, tired of being angry. His rage bar had probably sunk greatly since the last time he had been angered – the look that Gerard had given Lance – so he didn't have much energy left with which to _be_ angry.

"Well, they did a real number on it." Gerard said, still having to shout because of the distance. "This baby might take a while to fix up."

"Well, just work as fast as you can." Yuren sighed, sitting down beside the elevator's opened doors, which opened up to the vast expanse of air, and, further down, Gerard's work area.

Lance went and sat down beside Yuren, being able to relax now that Gerard couldn't see him, but whispering nonetheless. "How long you think it'll take?"

"I don't _know_." Yuren rolled his eyes, and then yelled down to Gerard, "How long it this going to take?"

"Oh, maybe twenty minutes." Gerard shouted back at them. "Give or take five."

"Figures." Yuren huffed, folding his arms as if to comfort himself, which he did frequently.

Lance nodded sympathetically.

* * *

And then there was this huge tree, and everyone was there. Everyone. It was some kind of party. They were all waving banners that said something important, but she couldn't make it out. Mostly she saw all the vibrant colors of the confetti, the balloons, and even just the sky and the grass. And that big tree. Everything was so bright, so happy. 

Silya sat down on the grass and watched the party, feeling completely content sitting there. She noticed vaguely that she was sitting beside a tree, and smiled at it, feeling somewhat thankful that at least someone was with her. Not that it would have mattered. She was happy just watching the party.

She saw the cake being brought out, and all the people cheered loudly. She was a good distance away, but she could still hear it clearly. It looked like a really delicious cake, and she was happy for them. Chocolate cake, with moonberries lining the edge. Looked tasty.

There was such a feeling of warmth coming from over there, like everyone was really, truly happy. It was nice. She could feel its effects, far away as she was, and she was grateful for it. Though she felt entirely satisfied, she got this strange feeling every so often that, if she had been farther away, without the party's effect, she might have been not happy.

But what was not happy? What kind of feeling would it be? She couldn't imagine what sort of thing could happen to make her unhappy when the air was so fresh, the tree beside her was gently waving its branches with the wind, and the party over there was still going.

She leaned her head against the tree's trunk beside her, and thought wonderingly that it felt a tad bit softer than it should have. Not quite like she expected wood would feel like. But then, this was such a nice place, so things were probably different. And it didn't matter, anyway. At least she was there, happy, content, forever…

A breeze wafted past her, carrying a hint of moonberry on it, and she smiled, feeling blissfully carefree. Moonberries… she had always liked them.

"Silya."

Her happy scene lurched, swirling, as she tried in vain to do something, anything, to keep it there. But she couldn't move from her spot, head resting against the tree. She tried to shout, tried to scream, but no sound came. Her last thought was that the tree might protect her from whatever was destroying the beautiful place.

"Silya!"

Silya awoke, tears in her eyes, breathing heavily and leaning against the tree. Wait, the tree? Oh, it was Alyane. Wait, Alyane?

"Silya, are you all right?" Alyane asked, with seemingly genuine concern. She helped Silya sit up, with an expression of open worry, something that Silya vaguely remembered not happening. Ever.

"It was… but the tree!" Silya exclaimed disorientedly, looking around. "Where did it go?"

"Calm yourself. Nothing is wrong." Alyane said gently, a hand still on Silya's shoulder.

"What…?" Silya shook her head to clear it, and tried to remember. "We're stuck in the elevator?"

"Yes." Alyane confirmed, removing her hand seeing as her apprentice was returning to normal. "And we have been in here for quite some time."

"Oh, right." Silya recalled, as if from a distant day, a long time ago. "Then… I fell asleep?"

Alyane nodded, watching Silya's expression change to deep disappointment. "Is something wrong?"

Silya was going to gush all over about her dream, and how it was so nice until it ended, but she felt odd about it, like there had to be some symbolism there that Alyane could catch onto. "No. Uh, sorry about… using your shoulder."

"It is fine." Alyane said reassuringly. "But you were not."

Silya looked down at the stony floor and sighed. So much for Alyane not noticing anything. "Well I had this nice dream, but it ended."

"People do not usually thrash and cry when nice dreams end." Alyane said patiently, still concerned for Silya.

Silya touched her face thoughtfully, and felt the drying remnants of tears there. "I did…" It was odd, the dream had been so lovely, and then suddenly it had vanished with… had that been Alyane's voice calling her? It had to have been.

"You would not wake up for several minutes." Alyane continued hesitantly. "I was… worried."

Silya hastily wiped her eyes and face with her sleeves and gave Alyane the most grateful look she could summon up. "Thanks."

Alyane nodded slowly, still watching Silya closely, as if afraid that something would happen to her. "Of course."

The floor seemed to drop under them suddenly, and Silya clutched the nearest thing as the feeling swept through her. Unfortunately, the nearest thing was Alyane, but fortunately, Alyane was still too concerned with things – mainly Silya and the elevator –

to be bothered by this intrusive gesture.

When the elevator seemed to slow, Silya hastily moved away from her teacher, eyes on the ground. She tried to control her expression, and her emotions, as she realized that they would have to leave the oddly comforting safety of the elevator. Because out there, in Undercity, she would be observed by everyone, and she would have to uphold her training.

The elevator made a short beeping sound, and even as they opened Alyane succeeded in gracefully helping Silya to her feet, so that when the elevator doors opened, they were both standing, and composed.

They exited the elevator to see Yuren and Lance sitting against the wall, looking flabbergasted. Well, Lance did. Yuren just looked mildly annoyed in addition to being surprised.

"Lancelot, we would speak with you." Alyane said levelly, masking her surprise smoothly, though her lips seemed to move into a half-smile before she restrained herself.

Lance, still stunned, replied, "Of… course."

"You two were in this elevator for _how long_?" Yuren asked incredulously, recalling that the elevator had been broken since the last time he and Lance had been stranded in it.

"Not more than three hours." Alyane said briskly.

Yuren seemed somewhat appeased by this, although he hadn't really cared in the first place, but then his gaze flitted over to Silya, and he saw her staring dazedly at the wall. "And _what_, may I ask, happened in the elevator?"

Alyane's eyes narrowed. "It does not concern you."

Silya looked away from the wall suddenly, realizing that she had blanked out, and noticed Lance and Yuren. "Well, it seems that we were at the right place at the right time."

It was a rather pointless thing to say, but she had to say something that sounded remotely intelligent, and she was in a strange mood because of the weird dream wearing off, so it was the best she could do.

Yuren rolled his eyes, knowing, of course, that this sentence was a product of Silya's training. "Right. Let's get going, then."

"Didn't we get the elevator fixed so we could use it?" Lance asked himself quietly, a bit less enthusiastic about life since the thirty-minute wait they had had to sit through.

"Shut up, Lance, it's _you_ they want to talk to, anyway." Yuren said irritably. "Let's get this over with."

* * *

It was getting to be sunset, and Felfe was exhausted. Unfortunately, they had a ways more to go before they could make camp, or so Kain had told him. A while ago. But of course, Felfe would never complain about it, just nod and continue on, despite his feet aching like _frosting_. 

They were in the 'Badlands', and it was pretty bad there, in Felfe's opinion. They were near the end of the place, luckily, because he was really starting to get sick of the horrid orange-y red color of the dirt. And the hills. And the monsters. Cupcakes, _everything _was that color! Except the occasional cactus. And those were the most disgusting pea-green color that he had ever seen. The whole place must have been designed to make people sick.

Felfe would have sighed, but he was already breathing heavily due to so much running – and walking, since Kain had them take breaks every so often. Of course, they had already had lunch, which Kain had cleverly taken off several different corpses earlier. If he hadn't been used to it, Felfe would have been less-than-happy at present.

It was a close thing, though. On one hand, he was with Kain. On the other hand, he was tired, his feet hurt, and he was desperately hoping that they would get to this so-called 'camp' place so they could get some sleep. Felfe hoped it was a really good camp.

Kain glanced over at him, a small smile crossing his face. "Are you okay?"

Felfe nodded, feeling like he shouldn't waste what little breath he had, as they ran through the barren miles of cacti, buzzards, and that horrible red dirt.

"Walk time." Kain said, watching Felfe's relieved expression at the words. "I'm sorry about this…"

It was about the millionth time he had said so, but Felfe still appreciated it. "No, it's okay… it's… t-training." He had forgotten that he didn't have enough air.

Kain moved closer to him, now that they were walking, and took his hand. "I'll make it up to you once we stop for the night."

Felfe looked up at him to see the usual smirk, and knew that he was implying something, once again. "Just find a huge bed somewhere, and I'm happy."

Kain raised an eyebrow.

"A huge, _comfy_ bed." Felfe corrected himself. "For sleeping."

Kain nodded, seeming relieved, as if he had expected Felfe to mean otherwise. Felfe considered a stray thought that popped up at this, and donned a thoughtful expression. Kain knew by now that this expression meant that Felfe had some sort of idea, so he eyed his friend curiously, obviously in expectation of some sort of interesting statement.

"Kain," Felfe began uncertainly, unsure if it was the best topic to bring up. "What would you say if I really _did _want to find a huge bed… for that reason?"

Kain fixed him with a surprised look. "… Yes?"

Felfe looked at him, confused. "No, I mean, what would you say?"

"Yes." Kain said slowly, clarifying. "I'd say yes."

"_Oh._" Felfe said, in complete understanding. "I see."

"But not now." Kain said teasingly. "I don't think the ground here is very comfortable."

Normally, Felfe would have blushed and stuttered, but with his energy sapped, his body didn't even bother blushing more than a light pink, and he replied tiredly, "I don't think the ground anywhere is comfortable."

"Oh, you'd be surprised…" Kain trailed off enigmatically, high-level smirk in use.

Felfe felt himself wilt, as usual, at the chaotic destruction that the high-level smirk tended to cause, and he looked away momentarily. "So, are we close?"

"Not close enough." Kain replied mischievously.

"Kain." Felfe sighed, smiling. "Are we close to the _camp_?"

"Yes."

"Oh, good…" And with that, Felfe swayed on his feet, quickly managing to seize Kain's arm to stop himself from falling over. "Uh oh…"

Kain carefully took hold of Felfe, slipped Felfe's arm over his shoulders, and his own arm around Felfe's waist. But when he straightened up, Felfe's arm slid right off him, as much due to their height difference as the fact that Felfe seemed about to faint.

"Do you mind?" Kain asked the barely conscious Felfe. He received no answer except a vague shake of the head.

He slipped one arm around Felfe's back, and another under his legs, lifting him up. Felfe made no noticeable protest, and, when Kain looked down at him, seemed on the verge of either passing out or falling asleep, whichever came first. Kain felt entirely guilty of overworking the poor night-elf.

Kain began running again, grateful that he was able to carry Felfe and run at the same time. Soon enough, he had made it to the passage between Badlands and Searing Gorge, and with a sigh of relief he crossed into the next zone, veering off to the left as soon as he could to avoid some of the spiders that lurked near the entrance.

Belatedly he realized that he wouldn't be able to fend off anything while carrying his charge, so he hastily zigzagged through various spiders to reach the base of the mountains. With much luck, he managed to avoid aggroing any, and came to the mountains slightly out of breath, stopping for a moment.

Felfe stirred half-consciously in his arms. "Wha…?"

"We're fine, you can sleep." Kain said gently, wanting to pat the elf on the back but not really having any way of doing so. But at least Felfe seemed to relax again, closing his eyes and letting his body go limp.

Kain made his way up the mountain path, ignoring the strain it was putting on him as he carried Felfe over the rocky area, and upwards around the mountain. There were no more monsters farther up the mountain, so he had one less thing to worry about as he trudged on, past rocky outcrops and views of the valley below.

Sooner then seemed realistic, Kain had ran to a path that lead around a bend in the mountain, revealing a short path and a cave. This cave was one that he had seen before, having ran away from the mansion at some point before, and he knew it was unused, relatively unknown, and exactly what they wanted. Except for the huge bed.

It was a very small cave, but it provided cover from the wind, and a hide-out from monsters – and people – who could threaten them if they slept out in the open. Kain gratefully stepped inside, into its semi-darkness and cool air, and set Felfe down cautiously, so that the night-elf was sitting on the ground. Without taking his arm from Felfe's shoulders, being that it was all that was holding the night-elf up, he sat down beside him. With a relieved sigh, he searched his bags and pulled out a mana potion.

"Felfe." He patted Felfe's face lightly, trying to wake him in the nicest way possible.

"Mm?" Felfe shifted slightly, disconcerted from being half-conscious and then wakened. "What?"

"We made it." Kain remarked contentedly.

"Oh… g… good." Felfe yawned. "Sleep?"

"Yes." Kain said firmly. "I won't get to make it up to you, I suppose… Tomorrow, then."

"Mm." Felfe nodded sleepily. And he promptly fell asleep in Kain's arms.

Kain looked at the mana potion in his free hand, shrugged, and drank it, putting the empty bottle back in a pouch before laying down as carefully as possible, trying to put Felfe in the most comfortable position possible. For Felfe, that is.

He drifted off to sleep wondering what the next day would bring.

* * *

**An odd sort of note: **I say the names of my characters aloud all the time, whether it's for the purpose of hearing how dialogue sounds, or because I'm bragging about a scene I just wrote (which does happen occasionally; me bragging, I mean – I like to think I write a scene more than occasionally). So, in case you're interested, here are the 'official' pronunciations. 

Alyane – (Aal _yah_ nay) First 'a' is pronounced like the 'a' in 'apple'.

Maren – (_Mair_ ehn) First syllable pronounced like 'air'.

Silya – (_Sill_ yah) Er, yes.

Guanji – (_Gwahn_ jee) Yup.

Felfe – (_Fell_ fay) I really hope this is close to whatever people think it is… o.o

Kain – (_Kayn)_ Like 'cane'.

Liam – (_Lee_ aam) The 'a' part of 'aam' here is like 'ample' or 'ambience'.

Shiya'mal – (Shee_yah_ mall) Odd name, I know.

Yuren – (_Yoo_ rehn) Kinda like 'you rent' without the 't'. That's weird…

Temarr – (Teh _mar)_ 'Mar' is like 'car'.

And I'm pretty sure 'Kael' is self-explanatory (_Kayl_ as I pronounce it, not sure of what it really is). Others, like Lance, weren't included because of this, as well. Next time, perhaps I'll do a quick discussion on how I chose names. Wait… nevermind… I have no idea where the names come from. o.o

But you _can _look forward to next time's story of how this whole series began… ooh, a behind-the-scenes special!


	7. Chapter 7

**Reviewers: **Hehe. Oops, I did it again. Great song for certain parts of this chapter, by the way.

**Khophey – **Wow, welcome to the club! I'd think that a trilogy would be daunting, but it seems some people can appreciate a nice long read. Hehe. Rofl, yes, I have characters on other servers, but my main server (sadly) is Hakkar, and I have no other 70's on regular servers. It's what happens when you start writing instead of playing, yes yes.

**SteelAgainstIvory – **First of all, I greatly enjoyed your review, which had me, I admit, giggling. 'Hot tea', yes? I can't say I haven't thought of it. But I'm really, really in denial about wanting that in the story. We'll see if I ever let go of the shame long enough to write some 'hot tea' scenes.

**Nezumii –** Aahahahahahahhaha! … Why do I laugh like that? I could just say 'lol' like everyone else… Well, anyway, that's pretty funny. But sadly, no, that's not it. But be comforted – _one _of my various possible plots involves things that just might interest you. I'll let your imagination take that one on.

**Sutairuja – **What is with Felfe's and Yuren's names being mispronounced? Oh noes! Well, anyway, Liam is back, so I'm sure you'll be happy with that. We shall see!

**Squigglefish – **Oh, my. That's an interesting idea – slash transcends time itself! Or physical existence… Wait, what?

**Daciamian101 – **Um, thanks? Hehe, just kidding, I love reviews, despite the difficulty of… well… I just wish I had more TIME. Time to write! Yes!

**JtheChosen1 –** I love being right… ehe.

**Kara Metallium – **Yup, seems like everyone had difficulty with Felfe and Yuren. But yes, actually, Felfe's name came from Female Elf, as you'll see if you read the 'special' behind-the-scenes thing at the end. I had fun with that…

**Disclaimer:** I don't own WoW kthxbai. I don't even own a mic. But I do own my 'creations.' Especially Felfe, Kain, Lance, Yuren, and Guanji. And also Liam, hehehe. And Alyane, and Silya, and Temarr, and… you get the idea. I also own the MORMRIS.

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

"Yeah, yeah, just don't tell anyone. That's the idea, okay?" The cloaked man muttered to the Silvermoon guard, black hood hiding much of his face from view. He was dressed in abjurer's clothing, a blue cloth set of garments that mages and other casters of low levels frequently wore. All of his armor appeared to be around the same quality of low-level cloth, in fact, and it could be concluded that he was a mage.

He was not. But the guard could not have known that, and so, with the bribe of one-thousand gold coins safe in his now fat money pouch, he let the newcomer in through the gates, hood or no hood, and forgot that he had seen anything out of the ordinary – even a hooded stranger arriving in the dead of night.

The guard let himself smirk for a moment, looking up at the stars and wondering what he would spend all that gold on. He didn't notice as a panther crept by beneath his line of vision, silent as an assassin and the color of the deep, dark night.

Inside the cover of the city, the blood-elf and his pet crept to Sunfury Spire. There was nothing alive to be seen, at that time of night, in the deserted streets, and all was quiet except for the occasional noises of partying coming from certain buildings. But even that was more subdued than usual. He could tell that something was amiss. He could tell that it had been too easy to get inside the city, as if there was something going on.

Everywhere was dark. There should have been more light from somewhere. It was too early for the normally excited night-life to have calmed down… perhaps he was overthinking things, though. It could have just been a slow night. Perhaps there was a raid going on.

He reached Sunfury Spire with his panther, and viewed the heavy doors with a frown on his visible lower face, perfect moonlit mouth twisting. "Figures…" It would be barred on the inside, as usual.

He shrugged, an odd reaction for someone so mysterious, someone in such danger, and took out a large axe from the inner folds of his cloak, and hefted it casually, letting the initial panic of the prospect of damaging a Silvermoon building take its toll. When the feeling dissolved, his mouth twisted again, and he promptly and shamelessly broke through the doors with a few swift swings of the huge axe.

When he had broken through enough of it, he helped his pet slink in through the wreckage, and then he climbed through behind it. His cloak snagged on a sharp splinter, and the hood fell for a moment before he hastily disentangled himself and fixed it, tucking a stray lock of fiery red hair back to where it had been, unseen and incriminating.

"Better hope they chalk that up to drunk partygoers, yeah?" He murmured to his pet.

The panther growled, as if in response, as they both went quietly to the translocation orb. A paw was placed onto the magical device beside a hand, lit crimson by the orb's glow. Red-handed, the cloaked blood-elf was teleported to the courtyard of Undercity, where there were more pressing matters to deal with, and stricter security measures to manipulate and avoid.

His first difficulty came near the elevators, where a monstrous creation of a guard stood, across from an exact copy of its putrid likeness. Both were unsleeping, unfeeling, unmoved by monetary gifts or favors of any kind. Bribes could not work on these creatures. He could not simply walk past them. Or could he? Perhaps, since they were not human, they did not tend to absorb human news. Would they know of him? Would they have been specifically informed of his crime?

Perhaps they would not even notice his hood, how he was wearing cloth despite having a panther trailing him. Perhaps, if they asked him to remove the hood, via common procedure at such security checkpoints at this time of night, they would not notice his features in the semi-darkness. Perhaps everything would be fine. And if not… he would fight. There could be no other way.

He walked between the guards casually, the panther padding after him docilely. The two guards did not speak, seeming not to even notice him, as he entered the elevator behind his pet, and the doors closed with a rush of air that sounded much like his simultaneous sigh of relief.

He had faced danger before, but never one such as this. Escaping was one thing. Running was easy. You didn't have to know where you were going or what your were doing. No one cared if they saw you leaving. But breaking into a city – that was something much more difficult, and the penalties were severe. He was banished from the major cities, most especially Undercity and Silvermoon, and if it was discovered that he had mysteriously appeared there, punishment would have been forthcoming.

But they would not find him. He knew the strings to pull to make guards dance, and he knew what to say and do to put up a disguise. He had done this all before, at lower risk perhaps, but had done it all the same. The only worry he had was of what could happen if he let down his guard, if he forgot for a moment the danger that lurked constantly in the background. He couldn't risk another discovery, not now. If something went wrong… but it wouldn't. Confidence was what he needed.

He entered the main hall of Undercity, strode past two more monstrous creations, and headed for the Magic Quarter, sobered even more by the realization that he was unsure where exactly to go. His first thought was of the mansion – Kain's mansion. Felfe could be there.

'_No. No thinking like that. Plenty of time for that later.' _He cautioned himself, knowing all too well that thoughts of Felfe could bring him down permanently.

But for some reason, the location persisted to threaten his plans. Kain's mansion… was it possible for him to even enter the place, at this time of night? For some ridiculous reason he hadn't planned past getting into Undercity, and was now severely in need of a place to rest, remaining hidden. The only hidden places he could think of were behind piles of crates, and he had no idea how well that would work.

'_Looks like I'm paying the mansion a visit, then.' _He thought, a bad feeling in his gut. He didn't allow a frown onto his face, keeping it smooth and devoid of any sort of definable emotion.

The mansion, as always, wasn't hard to get to if you knew the way, which he did. He was there faster than it seemed possible, his plans and thoughts cutting short as he arrived and realized that he had to act fast to be as inconspicuous as possible. He sent his panther to the side of the building's entrance, out of sight from the doorway, and more importantly, from the guards. It looked like, if things went well, he wouldn't have to do things the dirty way.

He pressed the button by the heavy doors, recalling with a sort of dark humor how he had broken down a similar one in Silvermoon. The image of the huge axe parting the wood was interrupted by the large doors in front of him opening outwards, giving way to the two blood-elven guards stationed by them. They eyed him, a cloaked stranger, with obvious suspicions.

He faked nervousness. "U-um, s-sorry, I don't mean to like, be so late."

One of the guards raised a visible eyebrow beneath his plate armor helm. "What business do you have here?"

"Oh, well, I'm kinda supposed to take this-" He proffered a well-wrapped package. "I'm supposed to take this to Silya."

"Ah, a messenger." The other guard grunted. "Figures."

"Well, you're in luck." The first guard said politely. "She was planning to leave on a trip today, but delayed it until tomorrow morning."

"Oh, gosh! Tomorrow morning?" The 'messenger' squeaked. "Is it okay if I just go in a leave it somewhere? Like, where should I put it? I was told to get it to her, like-"

He was saved from further awkwardness by the first guard again, who scratched at his hair, the bit that he could access what with his helmet, and conceded, "Well, since you probably won't get it to if you come tomorrow, I'll let you in, just this once."

"Oh, wow, thanks!" The messenger said, sounding entirely relieved. "So where should I put it?"

"Hmm…" The first guard, still handling the matter, thought for a moment and then advised, "Leave it on the table in the ballroom."

The messenger kept up his façade. "Er… where's that?"

"It's easy to find. Once you go in, go down the hallway to the right and…"

The messenger nodded at appropriate times, but was really not listening to the guard's instructions. He knew very well where the ballroom was. Yes, indeed. So, when the guard's explanation stopped, he thanked him enthusiastically and with much lingering relief entered the building with his package.

As soon as he was out of sight and earshot, he tucked the package back inside his cloak and continued on, still very much alert, as this was Kain's mansion, of all places, and he couldn't believe that he would have the good luck to, as his plan concluded, find an empty guest room without running into anyone who would question his presence – in other words, anyone else who was in the mansion.

Tomorrow, if all went well, he would lie low in the room for a while, and at lunch time perhaps he could find out, somehow, what was going on, and why Silya was leaving on a 'trip'. He happened to know that she hated traveling.

* * *

The morning rays of light could not reach the inside of the small cave, but just the same Kain awoke at a regular time. As he sat up carefully, Felfe stirred in his arms, half-asleep for a few minutes until he became acquainted, unavoidably, with reality. Something that, at the moment, both of them could have done without.

"Well, we only have... the same distance to cover today." Kain, sitting beside Felfe, said optimistically, looking at his map. He glanced at Felfe, and gave him a sympathetic look, putting the map back into one of his bags.

"I'll make it." Felfe said bravely, although he was intimidated by the prospect of another day of running for miles, another day of his feet getting impossibly sore, another day of 'are we there yet?'.

"I should hope so." Kain smiled half-heartedly. "You worried me yesterday, passing out like that."

"Oh, yeah." Felfe thought for a moment, and realized that he really didn't remember much from the day before, after the point when they had been 'close' to the camp. "Did you carry me all the way here?"

Kain nodded, and, at Felfe's then concerned frown, assuaged, "No, it was no problem. We were near the camp, anyway. I would have carried you if you hadn't passed out."

"Why?" Felfe asked blankly, then taking a container of springwater out and taking a sip of it.

"It would be fun, I suppose." Kain admitted shamelessly, with a touch of humor.

Felfe smiled, secretly agreeing with this, because he actually did enjoy being carried. Or so he thought. He didn't really remember well the times that he had been, because mostly he had been knocked out, drugged, or unconscious in some manner, and one usually didn't recall things that happened while one was unconscious. Come to think of it, the fact that he had been half-conscious most times he could remember being carried should have given the action a less-than-pleasant connotation. But for some reason, it didn't. Probably because it was always Kain who carried him.

Kain gave Felfe a pat on the cheek to take him out of his temporary stupor, to which the night-elf jerked out of his thoughts and looked up. "Huh? Oh, yeah."

The hand that had formerly rested on his face began to absently travel down to his shoulder, at which point Kain leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, causing him to blush and smile shyly, but he was not as affected as he usually was, due to getting used to being around Kain all the time, and generally sleeping near or on him.

"So, when exactly was I going to make it up to you?" Kain mused, now running his hand through Felfe's silvery hair.

Felfe stopped himself from squirming, and replied calmly, "Depends on what your plans are, I guess." And he closed his eyes briefly in response to the nice feeling from his hair being gently combed through.

When he opened his eyes, Kain had leaned closer, expression patient and, as usual, restrained. Felfe, despite initial surprise, wasn't all that unhappy about it, and leaned slightly closer before he realized what he was doing.

Apparently, Kain had the same idea, because he leaned in, leaving a very inconsequential – in other cases – amount of distance between them. But he didn't cross the distance, instead lingering there, not like he was being mean, like before, but with an aura of something like amusement around him.

"Now what?" Felfe whispered, hopeful and yet discouraged by Kain's exercise of restraint, if that was what it was.

"I'm sure you can move a mere inch towards me," Kain hinted suggestively. "If you can't, well…" He left the sentence undone, tone a mockery of slight disappointment, as if, should Felfe be unable to move that inch, he would be losing out on an extra helping of eggs at breakfast.

"I thought you were going to be nice this time…" Felfe said, trying not to pout. "And now you want me to do all the work?"

"I think you're jumping to conclusions, Felfe. I don't think I said anything about you doing _all _the work." Kain remarked, obviously laughing in his mind, because he had managed not to do it out loud.

Felfe shifted with slight unease, and then, figuring that at least he wouldn't have to do _all _the work, reddened and pondered the option of going ahead and making the first move, as Kain clearly was encouraging him to do. His eyes flickered to Kain's to see an obvious curiosity there, among the base hunger that continually lingered in the background, which Felfe now occasionally noticed before shrugging off.

His mouth twisted, in a way that he had little idea seemed adorable to Kain, and he hesitated, assessing the hand now frozen in the act of caressing his hair, the small distance between them, and his own, useless hands, which were simply placed on his knees, like they usually were when he sat down. Perhaps he should do something with them. But where should they go?

"Where do I put my hands?" He asked on impulse, innocent eyes staring into Kain's, which were so different from his, with so much more behind them.

Kain laughed quietly for a second before he stopped himself, and then he gave Felfe a somewhat pitying look, and said, "Wherever you want to put them. It won't matter much."

Felfe's mouth twisted again, and he looked at his hands awkwardly for a moment. Then he pictured the possible scene in his mind, seeing where he thought his hands were supposed to go. With his heart beating quickly in his chest, as per usual, he placed his hands flat against Kain's plate chestpiece, as he knew he had seen on the cover of some book a long time ago. For some reason, he had a feeling he was supposed to put his hands around Kain's neck instead, but he really wasn't sure.

"Are you _positive _that's where they go?" Kain asked, eyebrow raised. He wasn't exactly intending to make an implication – as Felfe would take it, it was more of a mockery of the night-elf's inexperience, albeit a good-humored one.

"W-well… I'm trying!" Felfe blushed darkly, particularly vulnerable to quips about his lack of knowledge, whether it was in the realms of survival, or the realistic romance category. "It's not like I do this a lot."

"And you won't if you don't stop stalling for time." Kain pointed out, smirk in place.

Felfe's blush kept itself going steady, and he gave Kain a forceful push in a very immature way, motivated by his continual humiliation. To his great surprise, he found himself falling, and in a moment he was more-or-less on top of Kain, who, it appeared, had let himself be pushed, because he looked very pleased about the situation.

"T-that was…" Felfe stuttered, and didn't bother to finish, instead occupying himself with trying to put his hands somewhere, because at the moment they were crunched between himself and Kain's plate armor, and were doing a very sad job of trying to hold him up. He placed them on the ground right by Kain's shoulders, on either side of his head, and was trying to get up when he was restrained by the hand that still remained entangled in his hair.

Kain more-or-less gently pulled him closer with the one hand, looking quite satisfied with lying there and not having to do the moving himself. At least, that was Felfe's explanation of why Kain looked satisfied. Regardless, Kain clearly thought that Felfe's hands were in the right place now, and raised an eyebrow invitingly.

"Your move." Kain prompted, after he had pulled Felfe close enough that there wasn't all that much distance between them. Felfe's mouth went dry suddenly as he realized the outright obviousness of what he was about to do. Would it even work? How was he supposed to suddenly reverse their roles?

"Do I have to?" He asked quietly, as if pleading, afraid his voice would break due to nervousness. His distressed expression made Kain frown for a moment, but when he realized that Felfe was only suffering from temporary awkwardness he recovered, and donned a patient expression once again.

"Only if you want to." He said simply, leaving room for refusal, however embarrassing it would likely be regardless.

Felfe, at this interesting interpretation of the situation, saw that Kain was right, after all. It wasn't that he didn't want to. He just didn't know what to do, and it made him nervous in its unfamiliarity, like it was an unknown task set out before him. But he did want to. Of course he did.

He licked his lips, glancing away as he did so in order for the action to be less noticeable – it wasn't, because Kain's expression changed noticeably when he looked back – and then took a breath in preparation. He tried desperately to ignore the frantic beating in his chest, like caged birds, and set his eyes on Kain's eyes, realizing too late that it wouldn't help anything.

Kain, seeing Felfe with the typical expression of 'healer that just got aggro on the boss', captured him with eyes of empathy and said reassuringly, "Felfe, this is something that you cannot possibly get wrong." Or, rather, semi-reassuringly.

Felfe felt even more dread at this, and replied softly, "I bet _I_ could."

"You won't know unless you try, will you?" Kain said, and then began, comfortingly, to provide an explanation. "Think of it as… our lips… colliding."

"Colliding? That sounds violent." Felfe remarked, somehow put at ease by the odd idea. Or mostly at ease.

"Oh, it can be." Kain smiled. "… But I think you ought to get it over with, don't you?"

"I… I guess." Felfe bit his lip for a moment before stopping himself, remembering that it wasn't a good habit.

He watched Kain attempting to look only mildly interested as he leaned in close, noticing intimately the loss of space between them. He felt nearly dizzy as he faced the impending objective, repeating his newfound, semi-calming mantra of, _'Lips… colliding.'_

His lips parted as he closed the gap, impossibly, and pressed his mouth to Kain's experimentally, desperately. The contact, initiated by him, was startling and yet gratifying, and he shifted slightly, unsure, to attempt it again, once again finding the warmth and softness of Kain's lips under his to be unimaginably wonderful.

Kain helped him, then, by reacting and caressing Felfe's lips with his before halting, giving the opportunity to Felfe, who leaned in again and kissed him tentatively. The cycle repeated several times before Felfe, used to the more expertly executed kisses of Kain, began to wonder exactly what it was that Kain usually did, which was obviously so much more pleasurable than his own simple ideas of what kissing was.

They had separated, an inconsequential distance between their lips, when Felfe thought to comment. "It's better when you do it."

Kain contained his laughter visibly, an eyebrow raised at the boldness with which Felfe was conveying his thoughts, which certainly made things easier. "I've more time to figure out things, you could say."

Felfe's mouth twisted in disappointment. "I think maybe we should stick to what we're best at."

"What you're saying is," Kain began, smirking, "Is that I should hurry up and kiss you because you think you're no good at it."

"W-well, yeah." Felfe affirmed, embarrassed, as he knew he would be.

"Felfe, don't you remember?" Kain asked curiously, watching Felfe's ensuing confusion. "It's not as if you haven't had _any _practice."

"What?"

"The rage potion…?"

"Which one?"

"The second one."

"Oh."

Felfe pondered this subject without images, due to the fact that rage potion tended to erase most of his memories around the time of its effects, and the only information that he had was from Kain.

"So you're saying that I _am _good at it?" Felfe asked, puzzled. What was he supposed to be remembering?

"Well, it's not really something you can be bad at…" Kain admitted, before moving on to really answering the question. "All you need to do is let yourself go, so to speak."

"_Oh. _Rage potion, right." Felfe said with new realization, recalling how Kain had mentioned the scene, and Felfe's then-nonexistent inhibitions, or something like that.

"But you don't need rage potion, that's not what I'm saying." Kain said, absently stroking Felfe's waist-length silver hair. "Just practice."

"Is it going to be like training?" Felfe asked, with obvious concern.

"I'd like to think it would be more enjoyable." Kain said dryly.

Felfe let the silence overtake him, and he tried to push away the impulse to try to kiss Kain again, if only to get him to take over control for a while. But he doubted that it would work that easily, especially since Kain would probably just figure that he needed the practice, or something.

Kain, eyes glinting suddenly, suggested an idea just then. "Shall we begin?"

Felfe nodded slowly, absorbing the sight of Kain's full-powered smirk paired with glowing emerald eyes, concluded that he had to have done something very nice in his last realm to be so rewarded. Maybe he had done free group run-throughs of Uldaman…

Kain said something close to 'All right, then…' and easily inverted their positions, rolling Felfe onto his back before the night-elf had so much time as to say, 'What?' Which, of course, was his word of choice in surprising situations.

"What?" Felfe said, consequently, and looked up now to see Kain smirking down at him. It was a very familiar arrangement, and not an entirely unpleasant one, to make an understatement of the situation.

"I'm going to be… nice." Kain replied, amused at his borrowing of words. Kain's hands, Felfe noticed, were already on either side of his own head, resting on the stone surface of the cave. That clinched it, then – it had to be the correct hand position.

And then Felfe was led to wonder whether his own hands were, once again, in the right position. "Um…" And he asked, once again.

Kain methodically took one of the night-elf's hands in one of his and placed it on his back, in such a way that it might have done a good job of holding Felfe up if he had been at all interested in the logistics. The other hand mirrored the first, and Felfe then felt much better, since he was prepared, in a sense.

Their gazes met unavoidably, and Kain allowed Felfe to pull him closer, with a smile at the recent boldness that had resulted, most likely, from the slight practice that he had been forced into. Well, forced wasn't really the word. Persuaded, perhaps.

"So, nice?" Felfe asked, looking to Kain for some sort of confirmation. "No games?"

"No games." Kain said sincerely. "I promise." Except perhaps 'get Felfe's breath gauge as close to zero as possible', which was a favorite of his.

"Oka-"

Felfe was cut off by soft lips on his, caressing and kissing, moving against his mouth in a way that seemed perfected and flawlessly executed. He felt his face begin to burn as Kain's mouth met his repeatedly, tasting his with careless freedom. Kain leaned into him more, deepening the kiss with mouth pressing hard against his, giving new connotations to the word 'collide'. Felfe vaguely noticed the dizzy sensation in the background, no doubt due to lack of air, as Kain's lips became very well acquainted with his, all the while fueling the never-ending blush.

Scarcely a minute had passed when Kain withdrew abruptly, thought still remaining close. "Breathing would be a good idea."

Felfe managed to get in a few breaths before Kain leaned in again, lips stroking his cheeks teasingly, as if just to spite him and his blushing. At that, he stopped breathing momentarily, and when Kain lingered in front of him again, he was more-or-less forced, by his lack of air, to breathe heavily, trying to recover lost breath without looking like he was panting.

"This blush," Kain mused aloud, stroking said blush with cold fingertips, once again startling Felfe out of his breathing regimen. "… There's something about it… it just makes me feel like…"

His eyes darted to Felfe's, and, noticing that the night-elf wasn't breathing, he sighed. "What did I say about air?"

Felfe flushed, and returned to his attempts at breathing, which somehow he remembered was supposed to be an automatic action, so he was wondering why exactly he was having to regulate it himself.

When it seemed that Felfe had relearned the skill of breathing, and was significantly advanced in it, Kain hesitantly asked, "Think you'll be okay, now?"

Felfe nodded quickly, and blinked at the hand that came into his view to caress his face, the blush that did whatever it did to Kain, and was inspired even more by the attention it was getting, both verbal and physical. He wanted to say something, but he wasn't sure what it was, and was permanently distracted when the pad of the thumb met his bottom lip, stroking and causing a fiery sensation that made his mouth fall open in surprise.

Kain moved very close, still caressing, and their mouths met fully, with Kain's tongue sliding in easily, teasingly. Felfe felt growing passion heat his face as the sensation filled his mouth, his own tongue desperately trying to slide over Kain's, experimenting, tasting. Kain's mouth pressed in again, and his tongue continued to tease, leaving Felfe's mouth all too soon.

Felfe realized he was breathless, and the act of holding breath gave way to panting, despite how much he tried to normalize it. Kain, though faring better, seemed to be short of breath as well.

Before either of them recovered significantly he had pressed fervent lips to Felfe's, and the thought of air flew out of Felfe's mind. The kiss was heavier than before, rougher, but that didn't make a difference. The burning that filled the hollow of his stomach was enough. It was enough that, no longer sensing anything but the lips against his, and the fire inside him, consuming, confusing. It was enough that, when Kain pulled back briefly for air, he made a noise of protest that sounded foreign to his ears.

It was enough that he closed his eyes in bliss as Kain leaned closer again, and waited for the feeling he knew was closing in as well. It was enough that, when he felt hot breath on his neck for a bare second, his desire burned for the contact, and the sensation of warm lips pressed against the sensitive skin caused him to close his eyes again with more force than before, letting out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding. The feeling swept through him, causing his arms, outstretched and clinging to Kain, to tremble, as he did everywhere, while the mouth that he so craved did things to his neck that he had never imagined would make him lose all reasoning, all caring of anything besides its sickeningly sweet pleasure.

Kain's mouth kissed down his neck, creating fiery numbness wherever it touched, a feeling that would have hurt if it didn't fuel the strange feeling inside him, always making that place in his stomach feel like it was on fire. He vaguely heard someone gasp as Kain lingered at the base of his neck, as if fireworks had gone off inside his mind.

The mouth rejoined his, to his now barely-registered surprise, and those pleasurable feelings, now familiar, caused him sink comfortably into the kiss, holding tightly onto his anchor, his seducer, his… there were no thoughts, now, only emotions. Raging fires meeting icy sheets, which dissolved and in turn became water, causing the fires to hiss in protest but never to burn out completely, for they were fueled irrevocably by those lips.

When Kain went to undoing the ties of the vest, all Felfe noticed was the absence of warm on his mouth, and he felt suddenly the cruel coldness of the lips having left his. It was a burning unlike the pleasant warmth. It was mocking, heartless in its absence of light. He barely noticed that he was still dizzy, still panting, as the vest left him, and Kain began unbuttoning the shirt underneath.

Felfe definitely noticed when, after the first button came undone, the burning lips touched skin. He opened his eyes at the attention to the previously left-alone area, which he had not felt as a part of him so fully until that moment, as if there was suddenly a hotness in his blood that inflamed the skin on the surface to the point where he wondered why he hadn't already burst into flame.

Another button came undone, and the mouth pressed against vulnerable skin again. And so, by that method, the shirt was opened, and tender skin was revealed to the ever-seeking lips, which wasted no time in lavishing attention everywhere they could, spreading the fire everywhere they touched, inciting flames inside and outside. Everywhere was a raging fire.

"I…" The word was muttered so quietly that Felfe barely heard it, his head swimming with other sensations and not at all accustomed to hearing, or even thinking. It wasn't his words, it really wasn't, this time.

Soft lips stroked against his again, gently this time, and he was kissed briefly before Kain withdrew. Heavy breathing and the pounding of his heart was all that Felfe heard for a moment, and by-and-by he opened his eyes slightly due to the lack of warmth, and the invading coldness that haunted him.

Kain stared down at him with a sort of heart-wrenching guilt, mouth slightly open as if he needed to say something, but he wasn't saying anything at all. His eyes showed dawning horror leaking through, as if from some sort of apocalyptic realization.

Felfe, the fire dissipating slowly inside him, became desperate for something, anything, and, confused and lacking the warmth, but still not able to speak, he awkwardly withdrew his hands from around Kain, and placed them on both sides of Kain's face, impulsively bringing their faces closer together.

A cold hand came up and, every-so-gently, seized a wrist, stopping the descent of alabaster lips and emerald eyes filled with shame. It was Kain's hand.

Felfe stared at the refusal with disbelieving eyes, and his gaze flickered to connect with Kain's, wordlessly asking why, why couldn't he. Why couldn't it go on forever? Why did it stop?

"Felfe…" Kain said hoarsely, as if something were caught in his throat. "I'm… sorry."

Felfe, hands slowly falling from Kain as if they fell through shimmering water to the depths of the ocean, where he now lay still, felt a bottomless, gaping whole in his stomach where there had been light.

"_Why?_" The word had so much in it that Felfe could hardly believe it was his doing. All of his doubt, his wanting to not believe what it seemed like, his defeated desire. All of it was in that word.

"No, it's not… It's not your fault." Kain said hastily, desperately, eyes searching Felfe as if afraid of something written within. "I… I didn't… I didn't mean to… I… I shouldn't have-"

"What. Shouldn't have what." Felfe spoke woodenly, as if his words were just that – words. Not questions, not anything he needed to know. Just words.

Kain saw the start of something in those eyes that he couldn't bear, and amended, "It was my fault! I shouldn't have gone that far. I thought I would… I thought…"

He fell silent for a moment before realizing the importance of an explanation, and looked almost on the verge of tears, or something close to that. "I thought I would be able to stop. I didn't know you would be so… so…"

Felfe nodded although he could not understand in the least, still not sure what he was feeling, all those sensations disappearing as he lay there, stunned, and unaware of exactly what was happening. "But why did you stop?"

Kain seemed as if he was ready to employ some sort of physical comfort, such as a hug, but he wasn't about to risk any sort of touch that could be taken the wrong way. "Well… I didn't know if you were ready for it. And I didn't want it to be like this, the first time."

"You could have asked," Felfe said mournfully, sighing. "I was… fine."

Kain seemed very stunned by this, apparently having assumed the opposite, but defended his views nevertheless. "It's one thing to… well… we're in a _cave_. It wouldn't have been the best idea-"

"I wouldn't have minded." Felfe cut in, for once feeling the need to make his point clear, for this was a matter that, his body had and was telling him, was very important to his personal interests.

Kain looked, if possible, even more ashamed, now that it was obvious that he had been mistaken about the situation. But it wasn't like they could just go back to what they were doing – the mood had disappeared, morphing into something unrecognizable from what it had been before. Now, it felt dark, and cold, especially from the absence of closeness.

Kain, looking deep into his eyes, asked, as serious as he had ever been, "Are you… all right?"

Felfe lay there for a moment longer, and then nodded. Kain carefully withdrew, sitting up beside him and offering a hand. Felfe shook his head, refusing it, in favor of laying there longer, lost in a world parallel to his own. It was as if he had been dreaming, and was slowly waking to a world he had once been a part of. But he wasn't like he had been when he had fallen asleep.

As he sensed more than saw Kain growing more anxious by the second, he reluctantly sat up, a hand half-jerking up to touch his lips before he stopped it, lowering it with a feeling of sudden loneliness.

Kain noticed the action regardless of its halt, and cautiously place a hand on Felfe's shoulder, causing the night-elf's bright eyes to turn to him. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Felfe said automatically, surprising both of them. He instinctively reached out for Kain, and was greatly relieved when he was pulled into a tight hug, comforting warmth returning to him without the blazing fire in the background.

And it was enough. For now.

* * *

"I think we'd better split up, everyone." Lance suggested rather dashingly, plate armor shining in the sunlight with a very dramatic effect. He was riding his noble steed, which was also quite shiny due to its own armor. Beside him was Yuren, riding Lucy, and behind them were Alyane and Silya, on Alyane's dreadsteed.

"Oh, don't you _dare_ give me that!" Yuren snapped, even more irritable now that Alyane was around. It was almost like he was jealous.

"Princess Yuren-" Lance said in a singsong voice, reminded by his thoughts of Yuren being jealous of Alyane, of all people.

"_Shut up!_" Yuren yelled, and he would have been blushing furiously if he had pigment left in his skin. "You know, I think I'll just leave _now_ and save myself the_ pain_."

And, in an action far too dramatic for him to pull off with the right level of magnitude, he slapped Lucy lightly on the rump, and in a few moments was far away from their group.

Lance sighed, but it was a good-natured sigh, one that signaled not distress, but placidness. "I suppose he'll start searching from here."

"I should hope so." Silya said, sounding dignified but very tired, and indeed, when Lance looked back at her, he saw that she was slumped into Alyane, with her arms folded around the warlock's waist. Alyane was, apparently, pretending that this was not out of the ordinary, and doing a very good job.

He didn't dare raise an eyebrow as Alyane fixed him with a cool expression, having noticed his gaze. "I suppose we must decide on what locations to search."

"Yes." Lance said, relieved at least that someone besides himself was going to comply. "Since Yuren is searching Hillsbrad, we can exclude the bordering zones from our assignments. But that leaves quite a bit left, of course."

He dug out his map and proffered it to Alyane, who took it, and read the notes which Lance had hastily scrawled on it the day before, at their meeting. It contained ideas as to which zones Kain and Felfe had most likely chosen, and haphazard circling of certain places that had already been disconfirmed, mostly by Guanji, who had been out and around Hillsbrad lately anyway, and had thus been able to provide them with scraps of information.

"I figured that they couldn't have taken a zeppelin or a ship," Lance explained, wanting to be of some further help in case his map proved, to Alyane, useless. "Kain wouldn't want to leave Felfe by himself."

"An acute observation." Alyane replied apathetically, still scanning the map. "I suppose, since there are four of us, that would normally mean that we would divide each continent into halves, and each person would search half a continent…"

"Yes, however," Lance continued, having rehearsed his theories already. "We know, by the fact that Felfe's hearthstone goes to Southshore, and they are unable to go by boat or zeppelin, that they must be in the Eastern Kingdoms. At least, until they reach Stranglethorn."

"Right, 'cause the ship is open to both… horde and alliance." Silya mumbled, on the verge of falling asleep "Yeah?"

"Silya…" Alyane said disapprovingly, but there was not much that could be done for the deterioration of dignity that came with exhaustion. Lance wasn't about to ask why the blonde hadn't gotten enough sleep the night before.

"So, it seems as if the farthest they can go is Stranglethorn, unless Kain doesn't mind taking Felfe into Horde territory with him, in which case they could go by ship to Ratchet." Lance mused, although he had already pondered this subject before. "Do you think they're headed to Stranglethorn?"

"Quite possible." Alyane agreed, still analyzing, looking for any telltale clue on the map. "Unless…"

"What? What is it?" Lance asked quickly, seeing the warlock's sudden interest in what she was now seeing. "Did you find something?"

"Yes," Alyane 'hmm-ed', and a perfectly manicured fingernail pointed to the Blasted Lands. "The Dark Portal."

"Oh, for the Light's sake!" Lance groaned. "You don't think… you don't think he'd take Felfe there?"

"Not likely." Alyane said hesitantly. "But it is a possibility that we cannot rule out."

"A bloody unlikely one…" Lance muttered, before wincing. He really had to remember that he was a paladin. A paladin!

"Well, then, not including the Dark Portal, we have a good-sized range of zones to search." Alyane assessed carefully, pointing each group of zones out in turn. "Firstly, Yuren is searching Hillsbrad and its surrounding territories. We can have him take everything from the Thandol Span between the Wetlands and Arathi to as far north as he is able to reach."

"The area of Wetlands to the Burning Steppes is the second group of zones, and the final group is from south of Burning Steppes to the end of Stranglethorn."

"Three groups?" Lance asked, and then saw Alyane inconspicuously readjust Silya's hold on her waist. "Ah. I suppose you must pair up with Silya. A good idea."

"Indeed." Alyane nodded, as if it had not been her remark that settled it. "That leaves only one decision to make."

"Hmm." Lance took the map back from her, and cautiously examined the three ranges of zones. "I'll take the southern zones. You and Silya will be fine with the middle section, if I'm not mistaken…?"

His unfinished question was answered by Alyane's nod. "Yes. That will be tolerable."

Lance sighed, now that the plan was finally made, and put away the map. "I suppose it would be best to start the search posthaste."

"Naturally." Alyane said, lips pursed as she no doubt considered how she was going to get Silya to wake up enough to ride anywhere, let alone concentrate on searching.

They parted ways, there, with Alyane riding down to Tarren Mill with the interest of flying to Hammerfall and making her way to the Wetlands, and Lance departing for Southshore, then Menethil Harbor, and consequently Stormwind, from which he would start on Elwynn Forest, move to Redridge Mountains, far west to Westfall, east to Duskfall, Deadwind Pass, Swamp of Sorrows, and down into the Blasted Lands, in which he supposed he would take the Dark Portal to Outland and ask the guards nearby if they had seen a certain night-elf and blood-elf duo. And, after all those places were taken care of, all that would be left, most probably, would be Stranglethorn Vale, which was where he was nearly certain he would find them. Why? Well, it seemed like a wonderful place to elope to…

By the time he arrived at Southshore and boarded his rather ruffled gryphon, he had everything ordered in his mind, ready for his arrival at Stormwind and the start of his search. He had to wonder, had he not had a hand in the conspiracy that drove the two elves away, if he still would have been so moved to look for them.

* * *

It had been easy to reach Kain's room unnoticed. Pathetically easy. All he had to do was get into the mana vents when the air-conditioning wasn't on and crawl to another vent. Since there weren't any air elementals in the vents when the system wasn't activated, there was no threat to him of running into one – in which case, he'd either disturb the system by having to dispose of some of the elementals, or he wouldn't be able to inch past them in the rather small vents. Either way, by his knowledge of questionable situations such as this, he had known to wait for mid-morning, when he could judge that the system had not come on, and he expected it not to be active for a long period of time. Not to mention, since the mansion was underground, air conditioning wasn't utilized very often.

Jumping down from the vent was probably the only part that had made him uneasy. Of course, he had stayed there, squinting through the holes of the vent to see if Kain was around, or, just as threatening, Felfe – due to the fact that if Felfe was nearby, Kain most certainly would be. But neither had appeared to be in the room, and after watching for a few minutes, he could tell that no one was going in or out at the moment, so he had judged it safe to infiltrate the mansion.

Now, crouching in Kain's room after leaping from the vent, he gave the place a look-over, not touching anything at first so as not to leave a trail of evidence. But he still surveyed the room and adjoining bathroom to see if there was anything conspicuous. He found nothing, and then proceeded to open a few drawers here and there. Still nothing.

Kain's armor wasn't there, which meant he was out somewhere. Was he with Silya? That would be a stroke of luck – with both 'royal' elves out of the way, his presence might go unnoticed. That is, unless he ran into Yuren, and that paladin, Lance or whatever his name was. He frowned for a moment as he remembered the battle, his mind returning to a moment when he had felt as if nothing mattered.

He just couldn't explain what had happened, then, but it had made him accept death as it stared him in the face.

_Kain's furious eyes bore into his. His hand tightened on Liam's throat, restricting air supply. Liam heard nothing but a buzzing in his head, filling what seemed like silence. It was only due to his half-opened eyes that he noticed Felfe coming to stand beside Kain. The night-elf said something, looking worried. Liam assumed it was some sort of protest, and in that moment he realized that Felfe was trying to save him. Save _him_. How pitiful, being defended by someone so weak that all they had was words. But it was Felfe. That made him feel almost satisfied._

_It was probably the closest he'd ever get. He figured he might as well end it on a good note._

"_Let the guy kill me…" Liam gasped out, barely getting enough breath. "Makes 'im feel… powerful… yeah?"_

He realized that he had been standing woodenly in the middle of Kain's room for at least a few minutes, and he masked his frown with a lopsided smirk that probably made him look like he was at least half-insane.

'_I probably am, huh? I mean, here I am, tryin' to hide my emotions from _myself._' _He wished himself luck with that one.

And it was time to move on from his time-wasting thoughts, so he apprehensively opened the large doors, banging them shut extremely quietly behind him. A quick, terrified look at the hallway told him that there was no ambush, and no one around. He relaxed slightly, but still kept his guard up as he walked down the hallway, still disguised as a hooded mage but definitely out-of-place should anyone see him.

He crept through various hallways, avoiding the larger rooms at first, but he found no one. Perhaps everyone was temporarily elsewhere? That was odd. Usually there was at least one of them at the mansion, besides the measly two guards standing outside the front doors. Although, if Silya was on a trip, it was possible that some of the others had gone with her.

The possibility that he might actually be alone in the mansion was one that made Liam stop for a moment, crouched beside a doorway, and reconsider his plans. If he could be sure that no one was around, he would be able to search freely, without worrying of leaving evidence of his doings.

As it was, there were only the larger rooms to investigate. If no one was in them, it would be safe to say that no one was at the mansion. The thought spurred him on, and he quietly opened a door to the ballroom.

The large, breathtaking room was conspicuously empty, and it set his heart racing with excitement. He darted, silent as ever, to the door which lead to the adjoining room, which he recalled was the kitchen.

The kitchen was empty, too, and he hastily took a look in the ice-cupboards to see if anything was stored, perhaps for lunch. Mainly he was motivated by a gnawing hunger, which he had been ignoring since the night before, but he told himself that he was seeing if everyone had really left, for if they had, they would not have left food for another meal.

There was nothing like that. All that remained in the cupboard, with ice elementals swirling inside it, were things that would last practically forever. Nothing conjured, nothing that looked like leftovers or prepared meals. Nothing that would go bad within a few weeks, it seemed.

Knowing what he did of Yuren, who was infamous for his almost neurotic tidiness, he could conclude that the undead had removed such expiring food for a particular reason, such as the possibility of it going bad before he returned to the kitchen.

That meant Yuren was on the trip with Silya. _'This just gets better and better.'_

Sporting a triumphant grin, Liam crept into the next room, which appeared to be the dining room. No one. Not a creature stirred, not even a rat. Not that there were rats in the mansion – Yuren made sure of that. He probably had things, hidden in every room, ready to throw at possible rats.

Liam felt entirely grateful that he had spent so many years loyally reading the volumes of _The Horde Life_, that ridiculous series of gossip-sustained reports on everything that went on there. He had so much information to work with, and not only that, but he had backgrounds on everyone who ever stayed at the mansion – a list that was very short at present.

There were only a few unknowns that made him uneasy as he continued searching for signs of life at the place. Lancelot was one. He had no information, no knowledge of the paladin's history. All he knew was that the guy was the alliance's equivalent of Kain, so he probably headed the alliance's guild. And Felfe, as always, was something he couldn't figure out. Not only because Felfe was something unknown to him in the first place, but because Felfe was someone who, when he thought about it, no one really knew anything about.

'_He kinda just came outta nowhere,' _He mused nostalgically, recalling when he had first heard the rumors that Kain was courting a night-elf. Honestly, when he'd heard that, he had wondered if Kain had lost his grip. I mean, Kain was typically the tall, handsome one. A night-elf would reverse roles something awful.

But anyone who met Felfe understood exactly why that role-reversal did not happen. And after the proclamation, everyone more-or-less knew what the elf looked like, and things had been cleared up. But never had he found any solid information about him. The gossip that he was passed on was nothing but mindless drivel – dead girlfriend here, gender change there, anorexia here, night-elf woman in disguise there… It was the usual stuff that was so easy to weed out from the truths.

So there was that. Felfe, and Lance. Two unknowns in the equation. Could he assume that they would be with their respective partners, knowing what little of them that he did?

As he rejoined a vacant hallway, it occurred to him that he had just went through the last empty sitting room. There was no one there, no one besides himself. He was alone, delightfully so.

The first thing he did was rush to Silya's room, which he had glanced at earlier to make sure no one was there – naturally, since Silya had been gone since early that morning, no one was. He had, for that reason, hid in his guest room long enough to conclude that she had probably left, for his safety.

As he entered the room, his senses were again assaulted by heavy perfumes, the kind that he could identify as the most popular blood-elven brand at present. He looked around, seeing a wardrobe, a desk, a good-sized canopy bed, and an adjoining bathroom. He figured there would be nothing of interest in the bathroom, so he tugged the door open, looked around, and shut it again.

If there was anything good, it would be in the desk, most likely. He went through the first drawer, which was stuffed to the brim with, in his eyes, garbage. It appeared to be a home for all the love letters she received, and some that it appeared she hadn't received, since there were unopened ones. Interesting.

But now was not the time for gossip. The second drawer yielded little better, which discouraged him, but not completely. The third drawer was the key. He immediately noticed a small book, alone in the drawer except for a couple writing quills and a container of ink.

He picked it up quickly, barely believing his luck, and flipped through the pages. It was a diary. Of course it was! And it was quite a large one, too. Had she really kept this neat a record of her thoughts? It appeared so, for the diary went from one day to the next, starting from a date so long ago that he recalled it as being before Kain and Kael became involved. He went to the last page that had writing on it.

The date said it was from the night before.

"I must be some kind of god…" Liam joked to himself, scanning the entry.

He didn't really care about all the stupid details, but he read them anyway to make sure he hadn't missed anything. Apparently, she had suffered from a dream of sorts earlier in the day, when she had been trapped in a stuck elevator with Alyane. She noted in the entry that it hadn't been a bad dream, and went on and on about how in the dream there was this party that she wasn't involved with, but she was ridiculously happy anyway, and where did the tree go when the dream stopped?

Liam suspected that the poor girl needed some help if she was having dreams that weird, but couldn't really bring himself to feel much sympathy. He was too busy looking for something of importance to himself, and soon, he found it.

_We're all leaving tomorrow, and I really hope I can get some sleep. I'm kinda afraid to, cause I don't wanna have those weird dreams again. Maybe Alyane will stay with me. That's so silly, though… I don't think she'd like the idea. I almost feel like I'm a kid again, the way she's been acting towards me. I wonder why she cares about me, suddenly. Before this I never saw her bother to be nice to me, but for some reason, I guess I scared her pretty bad when I stopped dreaming, and then-_

Well it had sounded important at first. Plainly, it wasn't. So he kept scanning until he found another line that mentioned the 'trip'. And this time, he was not disappointed. In fact, his mouth dropped open as he read.

_I'm still worried about them. I hope we can find them tomorrow, or sometime soon. I mean, I feel so guilty, like I helped scare them away. But really, if the two of them can't get over themselves __by themselves__ without help, I think they might as well let us… But I guess it's their choice. I don't think he'd take Felfe anywhere dangerous, though, so there can't be that many places to look. I mean, what, are they gonna walk for days just to get away from us? Sounds kinda impossible to me. But then, I guess this is Kain, and he does tend to get weird every once in a while. So I guess anything's possible. Huh. _

The entry ended there.

"Dang." Liam breathed, absorbing the news with a sense of wonder. Kain and Felfe were gone? It seemed like they had run away. Were they eloping? Even that word couldn't put a damper on his high spirits, which had been lifted by the prospect that every single one of them ('we're all leaving', she had wrote) was gone from Undercity. And they wouldn't be back at least for a week, if Yuren's habit of throwing out food ahead of time was any indication.

The entry made it sound like something had happened, and Kain and Felfe had been messed with, probably by Silya and someone else. Some stupid drama, he reckoned. Most likely a plan of someone's that backfired. Plans of that sort usually did.

But regardless of reason, he could now be free of them. He had the place to himself. He could definitely avoid capture by staying at the mansion and living off their food for a good week, which was a blessing of huge magnitude.

"Still can't believe they're gone," He mumbled, pocketing the diary and making his way out of the room. He paused undecidedly, and then headed to the kitchen for a well-deserved meal.

He sat down at the dining room table with a bottle of chocolate syrup, a container of frozen cream puffs that he was thawing out, and a jug of fresh springwater. There hadn't been much to choose from besides that, and he was rethinking his plan of staying there for a week. Existing on cream puffs and chocolate wasn't exactly in his best interest.

He impatiently sampled a cream puff and found it still half frozen. He frowned, and then suddenly grinned at himself, because here he was, with the mansion to himself and a diary to read, and he was frowning because a cream puff hadn't thawed yet. Wasn't that great?

He wondered with quite a bit of dark curiosity if Kain had a diary in _his _room, and almost left the table then and there to go see. But he told himself to be patient. He had time. He had a lot of time. And that diary, if there was one, was not going anywhere.

He took a swig of what he thought was water, and coughed as the sticky chocolate seared down his dry throat. Glancing down, he realized his mistake, grabbed the other jug, and gratefully quenched his thirst with springwater. He would have to be careful of that tricky chocolate syrup.

He tapped a foot anxiously, wanting to search the place more thoroughly for anything of use, but bound to the table until he had killed the monstrous hunger in his stomach. It was then that, with time on his hands and an idle mind, his thoughts flitted around innocently, and he grasped some of them because of nothing better to do.

One of the thoughts was so outrageous, so interesting, so intoxicating, that he couldn't let it go. An idea began to grow in his mind, unplanned but sprawling dangerously, developing as he thought it out, and quickly consuming him as he considered its rewards. He calculated carefully, trying to discourage himself from such a gamble, but could find little possibility that he could lose.

No, he couldn't lose this time. And if he did, well… It wasn't like he had anything he wanted to finish before he died, save what his plan would remedy.

* * *

It was sunset when they arrived in Stranglethorn Vale.

"This is…" Felfe gaped, looking around at all the huge trees, the leafy vines hanging from them, and the beautiful flowers. "It's amazing!"

It smelled tropical, like so many flowery essences mixed with the heavy, moist air of the jungle. It almost made him faint before he adjusted to it. Even so, it felt like the atmosphere had changed remarkably, and it was much hotter here than in Duskwood. It was like Winter changing to Summer within a minute.

The sudden temperature difference made him feel the beginning of sweat starting on his forehead, and without much thought he began unlacing his vest, while they walked. He felt Kain's eyes on him, and, after taking off the vest and somehow storing it in one of his small pouches, he turned slightly to see what was the matter.

"I'm envious, Felfe." His companion joked good-naturedly. "I only wish I could do the same."

"You _could_," Felfe pointed out realistically. "It just wouldn't look that great."

Kain, knowing full-well that Felfe was speaking of the clash between his swashbuckler's shirt and his _kilt_, which he had harbored a ridiculous hatred for since he realized that it looked very stupid for him to be half-dressed with it, and no pants. "True, true."

"You could just take it all off." Felfe suggested, with such an innocent smile that he shouldn't have been saying those words. "… And get some cloth pants off a monster or something."

Ah. Of course Felfe hadn't been suggesting anything questionable.

"Not a bad idea, I suppose." Kain admitted, a little uneasy at the thought of leaving himself mostly unarmored, but then, he could easily handle anything in Stranglethorn, regardless of armor, or lack thereof. And it was indeed very hot in the jungle, enhanced by the humidity of the air.

Felfe, for a moment, looked down at his remaining shirt as if he wanted to take it off, too, but then apparently decided against it. Kain saw this, and was tempted to comment on the night-elf's shyness, which he had thought would have been affected by the morning's foreplay. But no, Felfe had undergone a very short timeframe of something close to confused sulking before coming out of it and going back to being his regular self, more or less.

They came to a place where there was a fence, and an area sloping downwards beyond it. Kain took the first jump, naturally, and landed successfully on the lower terrain, beside a small part of an old ruin. Felfe climbed over the fence awkwardly, stood at the 'cliff's' edge, and looked down at Kain with dread.

"You'll catch me, right?"

"_If_ you fall." Kain replied amiably, creating the possibility of Felfe not falling, though to Felfe that seemed slim. "You'll probably make it just fine."

Felfe, still unconvinced, backed up against the fence, and then took a careful leap from the edge, angling roughly towards Kain, roughly because he didn't want to fall onto him if he didn't have to.

He landed right in front of Kain, and it would have been perfect if he hadn't stumbled from the heavy fall, and latched onto his human anchor to steady himself. Kain didn't help much, just allowed himself to be used as such.

"Sorry." Felfe mumbled, extricating his hands from around Kain and backing away slightly so as not to stand too close.

"No harm done." Kain said calmly, and when Felfe looked up, he saw that his eyes had an unusually gentle look to them. "Now then, off to Nesingwary's."

* * *

"Figures." Liam muttered, slightly put-out. There wasn't a diary. If it existed, then Kain apparently carried it somewhere on his person.

But he still had Silya's, and he had enough inside information already, and enough charisma, to do what he wanted to do. After all, it looked like all of them would be out of the way for at least a week, and that would give him plenty of time. Plenty of time to persuade others to join his cause. Plenty of time to influence, to stir up irritation, to play with hearts and confuse emotions. Plenty of time indeed!

Now that he had more-or-less satisfied his hunger, he could proceed to the start. An unfortunately bloody start, because he would have to dispose of the two guards at front. They wouldn't be the same ones as the night before, so luckily they wouldn't recognize him as the same 'messenger' as the night before. And if the first set of guards suspected him for some reason, well, they hadn't known he was a hunter, or a high level one at that. And they certainly hadn't seen Shiya'mal, he had made sure of that.

So, when the bodies were found, clawed and bit, with deep slashes marring their perfect skin, no one would look to a humble mage who went about delivering messages.

* * *

"It wasn't that great." Felfe said disappointedly, glancing back over his shoulder at Nesingwary's Camp. "I kinda thought it would be… bigger."

Kain smiled, leading the way as they headed roughly for the coast, on the other side of the jungle area. "Well, at least now you know."

"Yeah." Felfe said, unconvinced, but he didn't let it darken his mood for more than a few seconds. "So where are we going now?"

"I seem to remember there being ancient troll ruins in this direction, near the coast." Kain explained, calmer even than usual, as if he was worn out after barely averting destruction earlier. "I was thinking I could… get some pants there."

Felfe giggled. "Troll pants?"

Kain turned to fix Felfe with a look of mock-disapproval. "Yes. Troll pants." And his smirk surfaced when he stopped holding it back.

"Are you gonna wash them?" Felfe asked with his mouth twisting, as if the prospect of wearing pants that came from someone else was bad enough, and worse if you didn't bother to wash said pants.

"I hadn't thought about it." Kain said, a little surprised at his lack of foresight. "I suppose so." Usually, truth be told, when he was a low-level he used to just throw on whatever clothes he could get. Barbaric, yes, but efficient.

Felfe looked relieved, and he then grew somewhat happier, no doubt at the prospect of Kain's new pants. Which, of course, interested him because he had Kain's best interests at heart, and if Kain got pants, he'd be able to discard much of his plate armor, and thus not sweat to death in the tropical temperatures.

Kain slew a passing tiger, and looked back to Felfe, question imminent. "Getting tired yet?"

Felfe shrugged. "I'm okay for a little longer."

"A little longer?" Kain asked hastily, anxious. "How long?"

"No, I mean, I'll be okay if we find a camp soon." Felfe waved off Kain's concern.

Kain didn't seem too relieved – if anything, he was now more inclined to suggest stopping for the day. "Well, we're not too far from the ruins. Once we get there, we can find a good place by the coast."

It didn't take as long as Felfe had thought to reach the coast. Mostly there were too many crocodiles and basilisks around to camp anywhere, but they did find the troll ruins pretty quickly, so they got to take a short break from running around. At least, Felfe did. Kain was still running around, only he was slashing at trolls as he ran.

He killed a good lot of them before he stopped, looking a little weary but hopeful. He searched the bodies for suitable pants in a very focused way, checking all the bodies to see if he could find pants without bloodstains or rips in them.

"Ah. Found one." He said with satisfaction, and then proceeded to take the pants from the dead troll, which would have looked very strange if Felfe hadn't been used to taking equipment from dead bodies.

Felfe awkwardly turned around and watched the waves crash against the shore as Kain presumably put on the pants and stored a good deal of plate equipment safely in his bags. The waves rolled up onto the beach, receded, and then slowly lapped at the coast before withdrawing and crashing down again. It was a very regular pattern, interestingly, and it seemed like the waves were steadily calm except for occasionally, about once a minute, when a particularly forceful one would erupt onto the sand.

"All right, time to find a campsite." Kain stated, and Felfe got up and brushed himself off out of habit.

And then he looked at Kain. "W-wow. Um… those are… nice pants."

"You think so?" Kain inspected himself doubtfully. "I look like a…"

"You look like the guy on the front of _[A Steamy Romance Novel_," Felfe pointed out, his shyness having mostly worn off.

Kain smirked, amused by Felfe's choice of examples, and definitely liking the comparison. "So I look like a rugged murloc hunter to you, or as good as?"

Felfe nodded without much thought. "Kinda."

Kain laughed, and strode over to his companion, taking his hand with a smile. There wasn't much arguing with Felfe – he really did look ridiculous, but in a good way. The Sage's pants he had found looked very much like some sort of deerskin breeches, and with the white Swashbuckler's shirt, he greatly resembled the typical dashing hero of most romance novels. His Judgment sabatons nearly ruined the look with their bold colors, but not quite. He still looked like human royalty.

Together they walked, over the beach, lit by the fading sunset. It might have been more dramatic if not for the earlier occurrence, which had made a lot of other things pale in comparison, and tended to overshadow anything that happened after it, at least for a while. But at least their only issue at the moment was finding an uninhabited area to camp.

"Too many crocodiles." Felfe mumbled, not really that annoyed but feeling as if it needed to be said anyway.

"Naturally." Kain said fondly, not that he was fond of crocodiles or anything.

"You like crocodiles?" Felfe asked, surprised. He had obviously misinterpreted Kain's use of tone.

"Not in the least." Kain chuckled under his breath, before seeing Felfe's unconvinced expression. "But I do happen to like _you _quite a bit."

"Oh." Felfe said, realizing, somewhat, his mistake. His realization was more than slightly delayed by the way Kain was looking down at him, and before he knew it he was blushing again, and even though they were walking, he couldn't take his eyes away.

Consequently, Felfe tripped, and managed to almost fall before Kain awkwardly caught him. Awkwardly because they had been holding hands before, so Kain had had to use his other hand to catch the night-elf around the waist.

"Muffins." Felfe said quietly in humiliation.

"Nonsense, you only tripped because you weren't watching where you were going." Kain teased, delighting in the light blush still tinting Felfe's face.

Felfe nodded hastily, and went on, still holding Kain's hand, and very carefully watching his feet. Unfortunately, this had him keeping his head down, and Kain always was partial to seeing his partner's face, instead of the curtain of silvery hair. Not that he at all minded that, either.

Kain stopped walking, and Felfe stumbled, being too focused on watching his feet. Felfe looked back at him and scowled, mouth twisting adorably like it always did in such situations.

"That was mean." He accused, but he wasn't serious, because the next moment, he seemed to get an idea. "How far do you think it will be 'til we find somewhere nice?"

"Depends on what you mean by 'nice'." Kain admitted, looking around in a gesture akin to asking 'does sand look nice to you?'.

Apparently, whatever Felfe's idea had been, it failed due to Kain's ambiguous reply, so they walked more-or-less in silence for a few more minutes, until they came to a hilly area made of sand, right next to the ocean, but not reachable by the waves.

"That looks nice." Felfe pointed out, and indeed, Kain had already set his eyes on it.

"It does." Kain agreed, and they went to look at it.

It wasn't all that much of a camp area, but it would be enough for one night of rest. They had already 'enjoyed' that day's lunch and early dinner, scavenged mostly from gnolls in Redridge and various nasty creatures in Duskwood, so there wasn't much to do except get a good night's rest. They had made very good time, though, and it wasn't quite night.

As they sat down on the sand, Felfe stretched and yawned, and then suddenly looked renewed, for some reason. "Hey, Kain?"

"Yes?" Kain replied, satisfied with his spot sitting up against a nice, fluffy sand dune. Well, it wasn't all that comfortable, but it was nicer than the cave they had had the night before. Much nicer.

"Sand is pretty soft, right?" Felfe asked cautiously, as if hoping for a certain answer.

"Relatively." Kain nodded, feeling more-or-less comfortable sitting on said sand.

"Softer than stone, right?" Felfe persisted hopefully.

Kain turned to look Felfe in the eyes, and blinked as he saw the eagerness in them. "You're not saying...?"

"Well it's softer than stone, isn't it?" Felfe said, smiling optimistically in a way that made Kain falter slightly.

"Yes, but… that doesn't mean it's, well, I mean…" Kain made a mess of his reply, and consequently sighed at himself. "Would it be horrible if I told you I had a plan?"

"What?" Felfe asked, confused, head tilting slightly to one side. "A plan?"

"Yes, a plan." Kain conceded hesitantly.

"And? What's it about?" Felfe scooted closer, expecting some sort of incoming explanation.

"I'd rather not say." Kain said uncomfortably. "It was supposed to be a secret."

"Oh. Okay." Felfe said, backing off from the conversation.

Silence prevailed for a good few minutes while they both rested in the sand, until finally Felfe felt rested enough to suggest something. Luckily, this time it was something entirely innocuous. Sort of.

"I'm gonna go for a swim, okay?" He said, looking for some sort of approval from Kain.

Kain, naturally, wasn't going to approve this without going with Felfe, because, after all, this was Stranglethorn, and there were many creative and horrible dangers in such a place. It truly was a jungle out there. Even in the ocean, figuratively.

"I'll go with you." Kain said kindly, getting up from the sand and quickly removing his shirt.

Felfe reminded himself not to stare, and tried not to feel inferior as he took off his own shirt, throwing it onto the pile that was Kain's shirt and boots, and then taking off his boots and placing them there as well.

"Um." Felfe said, and said no more for a moment as he deliberately didn't look at Kain, and Kain not-so-deliberately wasn't-really-looking at Felfe. And then Felfe headed, overly-casually, towards the ocean, as if he was by himself, and Kain followed, mainly telling himself that he was only going along to make sure Felfe didn't get into danger, and not for any sort of personal enjoyment, which he was certainly not getting nevertheless.

Naturally, they were both lying to themselves, and they realized it as Felfe came to the shore, rolled up his pant legs to his knees, and, because of a lack of anything else to say, asked. "So… do you like swimming?"

"I suppose." Kain said amiably, pausing to follow Felfe's example and roll up his own pant legs. He then followed Felfe as the night-elf stepped into the shallow waters.

"Wow, this is warm." Felfe said awkwardly as he waded in to his knees, not really caring that the water was soaking his pants. After all, it wasn't like he could swim without his clothes, like usual. Not with Kain accompanying him.

Kain noticed the obvious blush, and kept a good distance from his companion. The good distance here being about three feet, which, while farther away than most times could hardly _not_ be labeled as Kain proximity.

Felfe seemed uncomfortable with standing there without anything to say, so he went farther into the ocean, with Kain trailing him, until he was neck-deep in water. With that, and with little notice, he dived into the depths, silvery hair swirling around him underwater.

Kain remembered with surprise that Felfe was actually a very good swimmer, and went along with him as they swam under the water a good ways, and then, as their breath began to run out, surfaced and tread water.

Felfe shook his head to get the water out of his eyes, and floated there, looking relatively happy despite the awkwardness. Now that they were in the water and swimming, he felt more comfortable, mostly because he had always been body conscious since the earliest memories of being half-clothed with the other night-elf boys, when he had been taunted for being smaller than the rest, and not at all well-built. Not that the others were, at such an early age, but at least they were heavier than he was, with more meat on their bones for building such muscles.

"You're a paradox, Felfe." Kain told him with curiosity, completely out-of-the-blue.

Felfe glanced at him, wondering what in the world that was supposed to mean, and swam slightly in the direction of the shore, unsure what he was supposed to be doing. "What do you mean?"

"You seem nervous." Kain pointed out, as gently as was possible.

Felfe stopped swimming for a moment, and bit his lip, and stopped. "Well, I guess I am."

"Why?" Kain asked, not in an interrogative way, but because he was truly curious.

"I-I don't know!" Felfe exclaimed, the red seeping back into his face despite his horror at it.

Kain adored those blushes, but he tried to stay to his point, and attempted to explain his reasoning to the night-elf who at the moment was treading water with a sort of uneasy half-panic. "You're not shy about what you want, and yet… you're still uneasy around me. Am I to believe that it's the water?" His smirk revealed itself, though he kept it toned down.

Felfe considered the idea, and noted to himself that Kain had a good point. Why was he still so nervous about things like this when he _wanted_ it to happen? If he looked at it like that, nothing bad could happen from him not being cautious enough. So what was the unease for?

Kain mistook Felfe's silence and apparent thoughtfulness as a bad thing, and carefully rephrased his interest. "I'm not saying there's anything wrong, it's only something I noticed."

"No, you're right." Felfe said slowly, despite something inherent in him telling him to be less bold about things. "I don't know why."

They came closer to the shore, and Kain took the opportunity to ask a very important question, which he presented as they were up to their shoulders in the ocean, so that Felfe was still, as he had observed, slightly less embarrassed, since his body was obscured in the water.

"Have you asked yourself," He began experimentally. "Whether you're really ready for it?"

Felfe seemed to pale and blush simultaneously, the contrast looking very strange indeed. "W-well, maybe…"

'_Maybe you've asked, or maybe you're not ready?' _Kain was tempted to inquire, but didn't, due to the delicateness of the situation. "There's no need to rush into things."

They were now only up to their waists in the ocean, and Felfe took the time to pause, seemingly deciding that it was as good a place as any to continue their conversation, more as a personal challenge than anything, because he felt so awkward standing there, water no doubt dripping slowly down his half-clothed body in a way that was probably nice to look at. And there was the fact that Kain was in much the same condition, which made him not want to look at his companion.

"Did you rush into things?" He asked doubtfully, knowing that somewhere along the line there had been some mistakes with Kain and Kael's relationship, or else they wouldn't have parted so dramatically, although that could have just been the Illidan conspiracy.

"Most definitely." Kain said quietly, not really inclined to discuss the past during such a nice, otherwise unspoiled present moment.

Felfe recognized the tone as one that implied hesitancy to discuss certain things, so he resolved not to mention it very much, and tried to turn to something else. "And you don't think it's a good thing?"

"Not really." Kain said lightly, trying to sound as if he didn't have a personal opinion of the matter. He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but didn't.

They stood there for a little longer, both avoiding each other's gazes until finally Felfe, and probably Kain as well, couldn't stand it. That familiar silence was really unnerving sometimes.

"Um, so, let's go." Felfe said quickly, looking down at the water so as not to stare at Kain more.

He was surprised as he felt Kain's hand reach for his, but he allowed it, cherished it, for it meant that even if he didn't know what he wanted, Kain wouldn't take advantage of it. He would remain the protector, the knight-in-shining-armor. And Felfe was fine with that.

"Relax," Kain teased gently, and leaned over as they walked to kiss Felfe's cheek quickly before straightening up and pretending that he hadn't done anything.

Felfe looked back at him, somehow comforted by the show of affection, and smiled. Kain gave him a smile before directing a triumphant, high-level smirk towards the jungle in the distance, so as not to make Felfe trip again.

A troll on the outskirts of the jungle, who had been unfortunate enough to glance in Kain's general direction, promptly passed out and hit the earthy floor, much to the consternation of the rest of the tribe.

* * *

**Behind the Scenes – How the Story Came to Be**

Why Can't We Be Friends began simply and quite innocently, when I was still relatively new to World of Warcraft (my main was around 35, 36). It was before Burning Crusade had even been announced, which is ironic now because of Kain being a blood-elf. At some point, I made in my head a very 'gay' organization (guild, I suppose) of very 'gay' night-elves. I called it the Felfan Elves at first, as a sort of hidden (but obvious) meaning – Felf female elf, so Felfan, as meaning effeminate elves. But the organization was not the point of my growing story. I'm not sure what was, in the beginning. But somewhere, Olhado (a friend's main at the time, a human male warrior) got mixed into it. I began drawing bits of an odd and basically plotless manga (look it up if you have no idea what that means). The idea was, one day Olhado, this manly human warrior, goes on a quest (I was idea-less; the quest was to rescue a princess from a dragon…) and meets a beautiful 'princess' who turns out to be a very effeminate male night-elf who is being paid to dress up and act as the replacement princess (I recall mentioning that the real princess had already been rescued). But this male night-elf (didn't have a name at first, though Olhado was called Olhado) ends up being friends with Olhado, and the theory was that Olhado would teach the night-elf to be a better, stronger rogue (I'm not sure if he was a rogue in the original idea) and the night-elf would teach Olhado to be emotional and sensitive or something like that. Now, none of that really mattered in the long run, unless you take a strangely philosophical approach to thinking about it. What matters, really, is next in my description of how things went. Felfe got his name at this point, from his guild, the Felfan Elves. I decided the guild name was silly, but somehow I ended up naming him after it. So, yes, Felfe is meant to mean 'female' or 'feminine' elf. Except that he isn't actually female, he only looks like one. That's the point there. His guild turned out, though, to contain the very key to unlocking the plot of Why Can't We Be Friends. In a scene at the guild's 'bar' (a sort of tamely drawn gay bar, I admit) Felfe ends up being hit on by a black-haired night-elf (not a blood-elf, which I think quite interesting now; blood-elves didn't even exist back then when I created this odd night-elf). In my imagination, this scene progressed to something like seduction (my, I love that word). But at the time, this black-haired night-elf was the story's villain, driving Olhado and Felfe apart, kidnapping Felfe, and generally being a narcissistic, manipulative, sex-driven jerk. Somehow, he got the name Kain. I have no idea where it came from, don't ask.

The other key was the song "Why Can't We Be Friends" originally by War, which I heard by chance as Smash Mouth's version in a World of Warcraft music video. The music video had to do with Horde and Alliance becoming friends because they were both really humanoid at heart. I liked the idea, because I happen to be quite a carebear on my server (as anyone who knows me on there will tell you). I didn't actually like the song very much at first – but the chorus was addictive, I must say. I soon ended up listening to it more, and soon enough liked it. Then I loved it. The fact that the video emphasized the idea of 'Why Can't Horde and Alliance Be Friends?' gave me my initial idea (and title, naturally) for Why Can't We Be Friends. The original 'catchy' idea: Felfe is a very effeminate male night-elf who always gets into bad situations (I pictured him being chased by monsters). But this blood-elf (that would be Kain) keeps saving him. The blood-elf is his romantic interest, so it's a bit like a damsel-in-distress story, with Felfe constantly being saved by a knight in shining armor, except he can't hang around all the time because Horde can't easily stay in Alliance towns, etcetera.

That was the idea: periodic seduction due to Felfe's inherently bad luck, with Kain more-or-less stalking him. Sounds like a pathetic idea, I know. But it evolved, got worse, got better, incorporated characters that were basically made up on the spot (all my characters, save Kain and Felfe, had no development in my mind prior to being mentioned the first time in the story). And now, to me at least, it has become something enjoyable.


	8. Chapter 8

**Reviewers: **Sorry for the super-slow update once again – when you've gone through three separate cycles of depression, you start thinking that maybe it's been a while… heh.

**Daciamian101 – **In my world, there's no such thing as 'too much'. I mean, really, too much chocolate? I don't think so!

**JtheChosen1 –** Oh, I think that might happen sometime veeeery soon, given the chance. We shall see.

**SteelAgainstIvory** – Oh, um, that's really nice of you! As for Kain having a lot of spirit, I have to yes, he does, since he's a Holy paladin after all. And nope, Liam's plans are not nice at all. The marriage thing… um… well… I'm kinda not into that stuff, marriage that is. Sorry! Maybe in like ten years hehe.

**Zakuro Haruno – **Well hey, I'm glad you like it so much! Sorry I couldn't update fast enough to keep up with you, but I still hope this chapter will be as exciting as always.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own WoW kthxbai. I don't even own a mic. But I do own my 'creations.' Especially Felfe, Kain, Lance, Yuren, and Guanji. And also Liam, hehehe. And Alyane, and Silya, and Temarr, and… you get the idea. I also own the MORMRIS.

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

Lance had found no trace of anything suspicious, had heard no tales of blood-elves scampering around in Alliance territory, hadn't really seen that anything was amiss in the lower part of the Eastern Kingdoms. Had Kain bribed people to keep quiet, or had they just gone unnoticed somehow? Perhaps they had killed all in their path… Although it was doubtful that Felfe should be included in that 'they'.

Honestly, Lance had his doubts as to whether Felfe ever killed anything, but he supposed it had to happen sometimes, since there weren't very many other ways to obtain experience in fighting and other such professions.

He sighed. This whole search, as far as he'd heard from Alyane and Yuren, wasn't going very well. No one else had received much luck either. Of course, he hadn't searched everywhere, not in that short expanse of time since the day before. But he had definitely searched all of Elwynn Forest, Westfall, and Redridge Mountains. Perhaps they really had gone to the Dark Portal. Or Stranglethorn, which was his second best bet.

He walked down the stairs of the Stormwind inn, stopped at the mailbox to inform Alyane and Yuren of his mission status, and made his way over cobbled streets and up to the gryphons' roost. He offered a nod to the flightmaster, and handed over a few silver. The flightmaster led a gryphon over to him, which Lance easily mounted and made himself comfortable as he always did. The flightmaster made some sort of vague command that the gryphons always understood somehow, and the beast bolted up and into the skies.

The air rushed against his face, and he was absently grateful that he always signed up for all the flightpaths. I mean, it was so much more efficient than riding, and less painful when substituted for whole days in the saddle, which were, as he well knew, excruciating at best, especially when one was out of habit.

Supposing they had gone to the Dark Portal… how was he going to track them in Outland? They could, theoretically, skip back through the Portal whenever they saw fit, so he wouldn't be able to keep tabs on whether they were still in Outland or not. And even so, the various zones of Outland provided an annoying expanse to search, and of those he couldn't be certain, again because they would probably be moving about at the same time he was.

His best bet, really, would be to run into them, sometime while searching a zone or heading to another one. But for that he would have to depend on luck, and his was mediocre usually. Although, if he thought about it, perhaps Felfe's bad luck could work to his advantage in such a situation, if that kind of luck counted. But that seemed unlikely.

After all, Lance hardly looked like a rabid bear.

* * *

"I mean, _really_, he reminds me of a rabid bear." Yuren said accusingly, his voice causing his undead horse's ears to prick up, clearly listening. Then the horse snorted, nodding its head.

"Not only is he completely _insane _trying to_ find_ them like this," Yuren continued disbelievingly, an edge of hopelessness blunting his tone. "But he runs off to go investigate Outland_ by himself_. What kind of guy goes into _Outland_ by himself when only, _I don't know_, a few thousand _Horde _want him _dead_?"

The horse gave a dispirited neigh as it galloped along the path.

"Oh, _Lucy_." Yuren sighed heavily, seemingly having exhausted himself with a long monologue. "I feel like I'm supposed to go _after_ him, you know?"

Lucy whuffled in agreement, nostrils flaring.

"You're right. I ought to just turn around now." He groaned, and she stopped abruptly, sensing the impending command that he didn't even have to issue.

He thought for a few minutes, and assessed his location, which at the moment was somewhere in the middle of the Hinterlands. He'd have to do a lot of flying, and a good deal of riding. What an awful day it was going to be. He started for the nearest flight path immediately.

"Always so much trouble." Yuren scowled, with the meaning implied that it was Lance who was causing said trouble. But of course, he didn't really mean it. Neither of them did. Lance didn't mean to cause trouble, and Yuren didn't mean it when he accused Lance of making trouble. So really, everyone ended up not meaning their words, which should have made them liars of a sort, except that Lance wasn't actually saying anything, only doing something, so that made him more of a slacker, logically, but he wasn't, so none of that made sense after all.

Lucy pawed the ground expressively, eyes looking sadly at him as he dismounted and held her reins.

"Oh, _honestly_. You know you'll just see me in a few hours." Yuren said exasperatedly, but he really did love Lucy. "Look tough or something. Yes, like that."

Lucy stamped her hooves irritably and generally put on a show of casual annoyance.

"Yes, that'll do." Yuren muttered, satisfied now that he didn't have to feel bad about leaving behind his pathetically sad horse. "I'll meet you in the Blasted Lands." And, cursing Lance's letter and generally cursing everything, he made his way to the windrider.

* * *

"Al… ya… ne…" Silya yawned, not even trying for dignity after around a day and a half without sleep due to her fear of nightmares. "Where're we?"

Alyane, by now, had accepted that her student wasn't in any state to be learning, or practicing, techniques, and she was used to Silya's casual ways of speaking, and often ambiguous questions, which came often. "The Wetlands."

Silya tried to straighten up, seated in the saddle behind Alyane with her arms slung with little grace around her teacher's waist. "That's nice."

The Dreadsteed galloped at a familiar pace along the cobbled road as Alyane guided it with a light hand, barely seeming to move at all. 'They' had been searching the Wetlands for a while, and before that they had been in Arathi Highlands. The day had been long, but the night longer, mostly due to Silya's inability to sleep.

Alyane, though she didn't show it, marveled at the effect of a single nightmare causing her student, who usually slept like the dead, to suddenly lay wide-awake when it was time to rest. She was greatly concerned, because it had been going on for two nights in a row, and frankly Silya was as fatigued as if she had been swimming in the deep ocean.

"Sorry about this." Silya murmured guiltily, grimacing and thankful that Alyane couldn't see her. "I don't mean to be all-"

"It's fine." Alyane cut in smoothly, patient as usual. "Try to get as much rest as you can while we ride."

"Oh… okay." Silya conceded, which wasn't difficult because she had already been resting in such a way for the greater part of the morning. She hadn't really enough energy to do anything else. She just wondered what would happen tonight, when she was far, far overdue for sleep but couldn't seem to let her eyes close.

"I will see what I can do to help you sleep today." Alyane said softly, as if reading Silya's thoughts then-and-there. "But that will have to wait until tonight, when we have searched."

"Thanks." Silya said, in advance, and smiled tiredly, slumping against Alyane once again and trying to get comfortable, allowing her eyes to close slightly to block out the morning sunlight.

She didn't get to see the shadow of a smile flit over Alyane's face.

* * *

"Wow. Sand really isn't…" Felfe paused to yawn. "Isn't comfortable."

"Of course it isn't." Kain said mildly, looking just as well-rested as Felfe for once. He had been able to mostly relax, and fell asleep with Felfe in his arms, wonderfully satisfied with the feeling of warmth, despite the fact that they had both put their shirts back on and were not at all performing certain activities that would have made things warmer.

He had awoke with Felfe still in his arms, still asleep, which had led them to their present arrangement – Felfe still in his arms, awake. Which was just as good, or better, and suited both of them just fine. Felfe didn't seem at all uncomfortable, either, now that he at least was fully clothed.

"You think the sand near the ocean is softer?" Felfe mused, sounding innocent as if he wasn't thinking of certain possibilities. Which, knowing Felfe, he probably wasn't. He was, most likely, sincerely curious as to whether certain sand was softer than what they had slept on. Survival information, right.

"Why would think that?" Kain asked, shifting slightly with Felfe now on top of him. Felfe still wasn't too bothered, and he only shifted himself to be more comfortable, arms around Kain's middle and pressed into the sand, but he didn't really mind. The rest of him was more than comfortable snuggling against Kain, which was precisely what he was doing.

"Because the sand's wet over there. So it would be softer." Felfe concluded, closing his eyes as he rested his head on Kain's chest, which gave him a small shock because there was skin on skin contact, due to the nature of the swashbuckler's shirt, which always hung open, strings undone. But then he relaxed, and settled down once again, ignoring the tingling feeling.

Also ignoring the rather pleasant feeling - of Felfe cuddling into him - Kain replied logically, "It's much too close to the waves, it wouldn't work very well."

"Maybe." Felfe said curiously, revealing the fact that he had indeed been thinking of certain activities.

"Would you like to test it?" Kain asked dryly, glancing over at the shore, and at the waves that were crashing in periodically to soak the sand.

"Sure!" Felfe chirped happily, rolling off Kain and walking with springy steps over to the shore where the sand was softer. "Come on!"

Kain, having meant nothing serious by his suggestion, shook his head good-humoredly and rose, dusting his pants off. "All right, but we should get to training afterwards."

"Training?" Felfe asked, almost not remembering what training was for a moment. "Oh, yeah." Kain approached him, relaxed.

"Well, not training per se… more like adventuring." Kain smirked, taking Felfe's hands and pulling him more towards the waves.

"Adventuring…" Felfe pondered, the word holding a certain amount of awe. "Sounds exciting."

"That's the idea, yes." Kain chuckled, and sat down on the damp sand, pulling Felfe down beside him. "Tell that to the tigers."

"Oh, no…" Felfe groaned. "Not tigers!"

"Also not-panthers, not-basilisks, not-trolls, not-bloodthirsty horde, and most importantly, not-cliffs." Kain pointed out cheerfully, clearly joking.

Felfe covered his face with his hands, overwhelmed. "I don't think I'll survive this…!"

"Of course you will," Kain admonished, smiling, an arm around the smaller elf's shoulders. "What do you think I'm here for? Decoration?"

"You do make a nice decoration, Kain." Felfe remarked honestly, eyes completely innocent and wide like they often were.

Kain laughed, and hugged Felfe to him impulsively, somehow delighted with such a sincerely-spoken statement. "I'm glad you think I'm useful for something, even if it is ornamental."

"Oh, you're useful for lots of things!" Felfe exclaimed enthusiastically, smiling up at his often-savior. "You make a great pillow."

"Yet again, a piece of furniture!" Kain proclaimed in mock-woe, passing a graceful hand over his eyes for dramatic impact. Felfe giggled.

"Much better than a piece of furniture, silly." He said happily, seating himself on Kain's lap since he had been half on it anyway.

"Which explains why you're sitting on me." The Kain chair said somewhat suspiciously. "Should I be afraid you'll leave me for a nice bathtub?"

"Oh, I've always wanted to have one of those huge, shiny bathtubs!" Felfe gushed unthinkingly.

Kain wrapped his arms around the elf on his lap, and grinned in amusement. "You know that just confirms my suspicions. Any other household objects you have your eyes set on?"

"Oh, oops." Felfe blushed, noticing his mistake of mentioning the bathtub. "Well there's that nice dining room table at-"

Kain leaned in to nuzzle the very vulnerable neck presented to him, and Felfe presently lost his sentence. "I don't think dining room tables kiss very well, do you?"

Felfe shook his head quickly.

"So I'm much more useful than a piece of furniture, right?" Kain nudged, grinning.

Felfe nodded quickly.

"Good!" Kain said, satisfied. "Now that that's all cleared up…"

He let go of Felfe, and relocated him to a seat of sand. Felfe frowned in slight disappointment and then belatedly remembered the experiment. It was indeed very close to the waves, but none had come that far yet, and it seemed like none would, if they were lucky. And Felfe was hoping he would get very lucky, as that was the point of proving how much nicer the sand was than rocky stone of a certain cave.

"It sure feels nice and soft." Felfe commented, embarrassed by how lame it sounded as he patted the sand next to him.

They sat there for a moment until Kain shrugged and remarked casually, "No time to waste, is there?"

Felfe blinked and soon felt his back pressing into the sand as Kain pounced, and their lips met with intense curiosity and impatience. He sighed into Kain's mouth and felt a shudder go through him, a delicious feeling that made him press against Kain until apparently Kain decided for a change of plans, and flipped them over so Felfe was on top of him again.

"I don't wanna-" Felfe protested but was cut off as Kain then rolled over again, and he was back where he wanted to be.

"And where would you be if I didn't want to?" Kain teased, claiming Felfe's lips without pause, hands rubbing his sides and very much enjoying the way the smaller elf's hands clung to his shoulders.

They parted for air, and Kain flipped them again, upon which Felfe managed, by some feat of determination, to roll them over, and they were back to the same arrangement.

"Stubborn," Kain smirked, slightly short on breath. "Now-"

CRASH.

Felfe spluttered, coughing up water as Kain did the same, both sitting up and spitting out all the nasty saltwater they had half-swallowed. They were soaked from just the one wave, and Felfe's hair hung down limply. Kain's swashbuckler's shirt stuck to his chest rather tastefully.

"And that," Kain coughed once more and continued, "That is why the damper sand is not necessarily suitable for such things."

"I thought it was fun." Felfe said optimistically, but still stuck out his tongue and tried bringing it across the back of his hand to get the saltiness off it. It didn't work, so he scowled.

"Really." Kain questioned disbelievingly as Felfe made a 'bleh' sound and once again tried to clean his tongue by licking his sleeve, which again didn't work.

"Yeah. But I can't get this salty taste out." Felfe's mouth twisted, and then he glanced up at Kain with an expression like he had just remembered where a quest objective lay.

Kain allowed himself to be pulled downwards by Felfe until their lips met, and he was only partially surprised when his friend's tongue slid into his mouth tentatively, tasting. He began kissing him back and pulling him closer, but Felfe drew back, mouth leaving his, looking somewhat disgusted.

"Ew, you're all salty, too!" Felfe complained, and then brightened and started laughing at his realization. "Don't kiss me until we find something to get that taste out, okay?"

Kain seized him by the chin and leaned forward sharply to kiss him soundly on the mouth, ignoring the saltiness completely as he brought them even closer together until he could tell that he had taken Felfe's breath completely. Felfe squirmed for air, and he was released, gasping and slumping into Kain. Kain absent-mindedly stroked Felfe's silvery-white hair, which was now smooth and damp from the seawater.

As Felfe began to get his breath back, he steadied himself with a hand on Kain's shoulder as he leaned back slightly, eyes wide. "You can kiss me like _that _whenever you want."

"I don't want to suffocate you," Kain grinned, eyes lit by mischief. "At least, not at an inopportune moment."

"I don't mind." Felfe smiled faintly, and then swayed dizzily.

"You will if you faint." Kain pointed out with a sigh, grin fading, trying not to worry too much because it seemed that Felfe tended to get faint often, and he didn't want to make a big deal out of it. That would just make him panic, and make things worse.

"It's okay," Felfe assured him hurriedly, regaining his balance. "It's just the moonberry jello."

"Right." Kain nodded, strangely comforted by the explanation, whatever it meant.

"So I guess now I get to go on an adventure!" Felfe said enthusiastically, recalling his purpose for being in Stranglethorn in the first place.

Kain nodded again, "Ye-"

CRASH.

* * *

The guild meeting commenced, and the present members, numbering in the vague hundreds, milled about in the mansion's stately ballroom, disquieted and restless. A tauren shaman stepped up to take his temporary place at the head of the table, but stood instead of taking a seat, as this seat was traditionally the Guild leader's.

"Ahem." The tauren cleared his throat and began to speak. "We all know why we are here."

The responding mumbles and disheartened voices rose for a moment and were dispelled by a sudden rapping noise on the gigantic oak doors. The crowd fell silent, every member glancing around to see who would answer the knock. Everyone was thinking the exact same thoughts – it was Lord Kain. It had to be, being that he had been strangely absent for a few days now.

'_Yes, that's it.' _They all thought, in their own ways. _'He's come back, and now everything will be fine, the raids will carry on smoothly, and we can all stop muttering to ourselves.'_

The quiet held as the doors were opened by a troll hunter, and then in strode a male blood-elf, steps taking him to the head of the table, his eyes fixed seriously on the empty chair there.

Voices stirred in disbelief, taking in the image as if it were a distraction, some sort of mirage. The doors closed ominously as he came to a stop next to the standing shaman, who had been presiding over the meeting, and bowed accordingly.

Finally, a warlock who could not take the tension shouted, "Liam? What are you doing here!?"

Normally the tauren shaman temporarily in charge would have silenced such an outburst, but as it was he only stood there with shocked eyes and said in a deep, rumbling voice, "Liam?"

The elf beside him nodded, giving rise to a whole new range of whispers and mutters from the crowd. "I have returned, yes."

A great many voices rose and were silenced by a warstomp from the presiding tauren. "Silence! We will find out what is going on."

Liam kept his expression carefully neutral as the tauren turned once again to him and asked cautiously, "How is it that you have managed to get back into Undercity? Did Lord Kain issue a pardon?"

"Not that I know." Liam replied curtly. "I returned by my own will, after hearing certain… rumors." His hesitance on the last word brought more whispers, and this time the guild members knew exactly what he was talking about.

"You believed that you could return without penalty, after your banishment?" The tauren inquired guardedly, sounding tired. There were just too many things going on at this meeting.

"I have information that no one else has, and I feel it is my duty to pass it on." Liam said cautiously, still treading on thin ice. "I do not wish to violate my banishment for any longer than I must."

"You are saying," The tauren began, eyes widening. "That you plan to give us whatever information you're speaking of, and then simply disappear into banishment once again?"

The crowd whispered in the hushed silence, some in awe, others in disbelief. They shifted uneasily as Liam nodded, looking appropriately penitent and, for the only time anyone had ever seen, somber.

The hunter turned to the rest of them, his fiery hair against tanned skin creating a familiar contrast. "You're here because Lord Kain isn't, is that right?"

Despite acting against their better judgment, the majority of the guild members gave nods of assent, and Liam took that as permission to continue talking. "You're also here because when he _is _here, he's distracted and sometimes we even call off raids because of his… disappearances."

For the most part, the crowd was filled with irritated nods and knowing looks, further fueling the elf's ambitions.

"And you're here because you have doubts about whether he even cares about all of you, since he's been letting you down recently." Liam finished, folding his arms but still appearing serious, nearly a different person than usual.

The tauren turned, mouth hanging open as if he was about to speak, but then he closed it and gave Liam a stern nod. Liam nodded gratefully back, and turned to face the members a second time, looking weary and repentant.

"Did Lord Kain tell all of you," He began, watching as he immediately gained their interest, watching as everyone's eyes fixed on him. "That he was going to kill me?"

Shocked mutters emanated from numerous points in the crowd and rose to an almost conspicuous volume. Then they died down with the opening of Liam's mouth as he began to speak again.

"If a certain night-elf hadn't made him spare me, a banishment wouldn't have been necessary this time." Liam admitted, sobered by what he was saying aloud for the first time. "I swore then that I'd try and wake up to the World, and I did. I came back here because, after the realizations I've gone through, I started to hear about things happening here."

Most of the crowd seemed convinced by his words, and they listened raptly as he talked of these 'problems' he had been hearing about, many of which had been on their minds for some time.

"I heard some really interesting things from a guard at Lord Kain's mansion recently. I had gone there to see if I could talk to Lady Silya and ask to make amends, seeing as Lord Kain was absent. But she was also gone from there, and the guard explained that she was taking a trip."

"I immediately knew it could not be as he said, for Lady Silya detests traveling. When I heard that Commander Yuren had also departed, I was immediately concerned for the guild. After all, without him there really is no one accustomed to leading us, as this meeting shows." He nodded politely to the tauren shaman in apology, and the shaman sighed and nodded back.

Liam continued. "I will confess now that I did look into Lady Silya's diary to find out what was happening."

A horrified hush descended on the crowd, but they didn't seem so disturbed that they weren't still hanging on his every word, which was exactly what he wanted as he told his tale.

"I found that Lady Silya was going on this so-called trip in order to search for her brother."

Amazed whispers permeated every inch of the room, and soon people were talking amongst themselves in heated discussions as to how such an occurrence could have come about.

"In fact, she was going out to search for Lord Kain _and _his lover, Felfe. Apparently they both wanted to get away from the main cities for a while, and I must say, I'm disappointed. After all, if he's making such an effort to avoid his own guild, well…"

The guild members were in an uproar, taking the hint and running with it in their minds, ashamed that their own Guildmaster had actually run away from them, so to speak, and for what reason? To spend more time with some night-elf with whom he had fallen in love with, to the detriment of all his guild members.

"Calm yourselves, everyone." Liam said softly, but loudly enough that he was heard, and they began to quiet. "I believe we ought to think of what to do about this."

The crowd, still offended and hurt by the realization that their guild's leader didn't seem to be acting as guild leader, listened to the voice of reason in Liam, and they assented whole-heartedly.

"This is where we stand," Liam started slowly, for everyone to hear and understand. "All of us are fine and experienced raiding members, and we all know that we deserve to be treated as such. We need to get back on schedule and continue the planned raids. And to do that… we need a main tank, and a main healer."

When he mentioned not one, but two posts missing, everyone jumped to the right conclusion, and as he intended they began to burst out with different opinions.

"Even if Kain has… Yuren would never let us down!" Some healer blurted out, having much faith in their undead main tank, who was indeed a marvelous raid member.

"Where are we going to even get another main tank!?" Another person, by the looks of them a druid, yelled out.

"And a healer!" A mage chipped in.

"It's true that Yuren is one of the best main tanks we've ever had, but where is he right now? He's with Lady Silya, searching for our own guild leader." Liam remarked woefully. "I had thought that we would never have to recruit others for positions of such importance, but if things keep going like this, we will be forced to."

"Yeah, and from where? We can't just let in a bunch of noobs!" A warlock challenged.

"Of course not." Liam countered smoothly. "I've actually had my eye on a couple of priests recently, and I think we should be able to find a warrior worth recognition. After all, there certainly are many who would take the chance to raid with so many seasoned members."

"And who's going to be guild leader, Liam? Answer that." Melinda, a warlock renowned for her sometimes amazingly sound morals, stepped forward to ask the hardest question, one that she hoped would bring him down.

"Guild leader…" Liam mused sadly, letting them all hear his hesitancy. "I had not imagined that it would ever come to this, having to think about another guild leader."

"We all knew it would happen sometime," A druid called out, angry from fear.

"After that time when everything went wrong…" Someone else said, a bit louder than they had intended, and heard by more members than they had intended.

"Well," Liam sighed audibly, doing Kain a favor by not pursuing that taboo topic. "The issue of guild leader is not one that can be decided in one meeting, and if we do end up having to elect a new one, I'm sure you all shall figure it out."

The crowd fell mostly silent with patches of whispering, mostly due to the fact that Liam had said 'you' as if he wouldn't be there, helping them, which after all he had said seemed more than disappointing. The tauren turned to Liam, sensing the finality of his statement, and asked him quietly if he was done. Liam nodded solemnly, and then turned back to the guild members for what was supposed to be the last time.

"Now that I've told you of the harsh truths I've found out," He said sorrowfully. "It is my duty to return to banishment, so I will have to leave and hope that whatever happens here will end up all right."

He bowed, and made for the oaken doors, still serious and graceful like he had been the entire meeting. His expression did not waver from peaceful sadness as he glided to the doors, to meet his doom.

"Wait!" Someone called out. "Can't we get him a pardon?"

Liam allowed himself to stop as his hand came into contact with the cold , metallic door handle, and he paused, waiting to hear what they would say to that.

"Lord Kain and Lady Silya are out as it is," The voice of the tauren shaman boomed. "But… perhaps we could…"

"You really think he deserves it?" Ah, Melinda's lovely voice. Naturally.

A flurry of voices rose up scathingly to bring her down, and she backed into obscurity again, disregarded and shamed. The rest of them began talking in several different conversations until at last they reconciled between them.

"I say we repeal his banishment, and he stays here to vote with the rest of us!" The representative shouted.

"Yeah, banishment is just as bad as where we are now, isn't it?" Someone else pointed out angrily, and it caught on. People began muttering things along the same lines, things like 'We aren't raiding any more than he would be out in the Barrens, pfft.'

"Very well." The tauren shaman said at last, wearily. "Liam, you may stay. As soon as matters are settled, we will have your banishment pardoned. For now, you are temporarily allowed a reprieve."

Liam turned slowly to face all of the members from where he stood at the doors, saying with sincere gratefulness, "Thank you."

* * *

"So this is it, right?" Felfe asked tentatively, already knowing the answer. Stealthed, he looked out from between palm fronds to eye the tigers with no small amount of trepidation, watching as the beasts stalked back and forth, a good distance from each other, as if guarding precious territory. He was sweating with all his equipment on again, and his white linen shirt stuck to him.

"Yes." Kain said lightly, trying to sound encouraging. "It will be good experience for you."

"Right. Okay." Felfe said unsteadily, prowling forward with the innate grace that came from his racial heritage and was thus automatic, not affected much by his also-natural clumsiness. "Are you sure they won't eat me?"

"Positive. And if they tried, I'm right here." Kain assuaged, placing a comforting hand on Felfe's semi-invisible shoulder.

But when the hand was removed a moment later, Felfe felt empty and slightly queasy at the thought that he was about to take on the most dangerous beast yet – the tiger that was pacing only a short distance from him, its tail swishing back and forth like a whip. If it wasn't so furry, it might have been even scarier, but then, it was scary enough as it was.

"Go on," Kain prompted, giving Felfe a gentle push towards the tiger in question. "You might get pants from it."

Felfe glanced back over his shoulder, surprised. "What, really?"

"Yes." Kain chuckled. "Among other things."

Felfe gave a nervous laugh, and proceeded towards the beast, licking his lips in preparation for what would surely be a tense battle. Well, _Felfe_ licked his lips. Not the tiger. Not that I was implying that he licked the tiger. Wait, what?

Kain leaned back against the tree and watched as Felfe crept to the (somewhat) unsuspecting tiger, hesitated, and took an audible breath. The next moment it was hard to believe it was Felfe and not some other female night-elf in battle with the young Stranglethorn tiger.

One dagger sank into the tiger's eye, a rather cheap shot that stunned it for a few seconds while Felfe slashed at it, getting in a few sinister strikes. The tiger clawed back, parrying a few of Felfe's weaker slashes but not well enough to resist the final blow, the eviscerate. After that blow, where Felfe spun around, as if in slow motion, with both blades cutting into the beast, there was a last stab and then the creature crumpled into a heap on the jungle ground.

Felfe stood there, panting, and sat down beside the felled tiger. He was silent, and didn't even reach over and seize the headband that had fallen out of its destroyed belly. For a moment Kain figured he was just catching his breath. But then he saw Felfe slump over slightly, his shoulders untensing, and somehow it was apparent that the night-elf was crying, or close to it.

Kain approached him carefully and sat down, looking only briefly at Felfe's face to see that he was staring at the body of the tiger with a morose expression, one that didn't suit him at all. Someone who didn't know him might have thought he had a DoT still draining his health, but Kain could tell that Felfe was just now realizing that he had killed the tiger, and apparently it disturbed him. He was probably too soft-hearted, but then, he hadn't protested before when Kain suggested his 'adventure'.

"I don't think I like doing this, Kain." Felfe said quietly, very quietly. He reached out and ran a hand through an unbloodied patch of fur, vibrant orange and so lifelike despite the fact that the tiger itself had just lost its life. The night-elf let his eyes wander over the tiger's unmoving body, and his hand on the tiger tightened.

In another moment, he had lost it, just lost it, and turned away, sitting there with his back to Kain, shaking slightly. It was obvious from his trembling and the soft sounds that he was crying and didn't want anyone to see.

Kain didn't even sigh, he just couldn't really understand how such a thing affected his friend so much. It was as if a group member had died, not a monster. But though he couldn't grasp the reason for the emotion, seeing Felfe like that still made his heart wrench painfully, and he had to do something to help him.

Unfortunately, at the time being, he could tell that it was better to let Felfe alone to deal with his thoughts. So he did, and continued to sit there patiently, face masked with nothingness as he concealed his own pain, his own share of Felfe's pain, in a way, except that his in no way diminished the night elf's.

He reached over and without a sound took the bloodied headband into a fist, and examined it. Assessing its characteristics was an act that allowed him to temporarily forget the present, and he did so with part relief and part guilt, noting the headband's sturdiness, and the fact that it was made of quality leather. A scaled leather headband in good condition wasn't all too common, but it wasn't an extremely valuable find. To Felfe, though, it would be an improvement over no headpiece at all. If he would take it, that is. Who knew what he'd say when offered such a thing after being so moved by killing the beast it came from.

Kain silently rubbed off some of the blood on the headband onto the grass beside him, trying to erase the traces of battle. It helped somewhat, and he set it down in the grass on the other side of him from where he had cleaned it, and looked up to have his eyes settle on Felfe's back once again.

For some reason he felt like it was the right time to say something, so he tried. And no words came, which didn't exactly help the situation, but at least it spared him from saying something unnecessarily. Especially something that would have upset Felfe more.

After a few more minutes, Felfe rose to his feet, rubbed at his eyes, and turned around to see Kain standing right there, holding the scaled leather headband like he wasn't sure what to do with it but was pretending he did. They avoided each other's eyes, and then Felfe took the headband carefully from Kain and tied it so that it went around his forehead like it was supposed to. It looked surprisingly fitting there, but the look on Felfe's face as he directed his gaze at the grass was disturbingly mournful.

"No one likes it." Kain said gently, and was stunned when Felfe shot him a glare, eyes of accusing light, dimmed by his recent tears.

"Everyone else likes it." Felfe said, his voice astonishingly full of emotion, like a crystal containing all his built-up anger and sadness had been shattered, and walked away.

Kain had the immediate urge to go after him, but stopped himself, one hand twitching strangely like he wanted to throw out a hand and say, 'Wait! Don't go!' But that wouldn't help things. What Felfe needed was to reach some sort of decision, some idea of how things worked, so that he would be able to understand that adventurers had to kill things, and that was just how it went.

Until then, Kain resolved to follow him, keeping out of sight but nearby in case of danger. Seeing as this was Stranglethorn, danger was never far away.

* * *

Lance, arriving at the stone steps leading up to the Dark Portal, dismounted and stood there for a moment, caught in the temporary nostalgia. He remembered his first view of the enormous portal, set in a stone frame like a monstrous mirror, with twisting magic swirling in its center. It had been an impressive sight, and especially important to a paladin whose dream was to become the best there ever was. That day had been special to him always, because it had been the day that he finally began to progress at a rapid pace, and it also marked the start of his heightened awareness of his own goals. With so many otherwordly and overwhelming quests, he started to understand that he had to constantly be on his guard – especially for Fel Reavers – and he had to strive to do everything effectively. That had been the start, yes. The start of his real inspiration.

Startled out of his reverie by the sound of approaching horses, he quickly entered the portal. His body seemed to distort, stretching and contracting, until finally he materialized in Hellfire Peninsula, at the Stair of Destiny.

Knowing he had to move quickly to avoid the incoming group – he had no idea if they were Horde or Alliance, but he wasn't taking chances, being alone as he was – he called in his gryphon from the skies, and hopped onto it. The gryphon clacked its beak as he kneed it, causing it to take off into the air abruptly.

As he left the ground to soar over the Stairs and its constant battle, he saw the group entering Outlands. They were Horde, with three orcs and a blood-elf. Decently geared, around level sixty-three by the looks of them. Maybe one recent level seventy. Regardless, since there were four of them, he had to avoid them, so he flew well above the ground and headed for Honor Hold, still flying close enough to see if there were any conspicuous groups of a night-elf and blood-elf roaming the vermillion terrain.

Soon he had arrived at Honor Hold, and received a warm welcome from the Alliance members present there. They all wanted to know, naturally, when the next battle against the Horde army would be – he had had enough time away from Undercity to keep them satisfied with the raids, at least – to which he replied as he had those past weeks. It was his usual speech, something of a 'strange events are being put into motion and I would like to see what happens when they settle out' talk. They accepted it, and were happy going about their minor PVP skirmishes.

When a few of them began to talk to him about the local battles, he noticed how they seemed to be hinting to him every so often how wonderful it would be if their entirely amazing commander could be with them to witness their victories. And wouldn't it be splendid if he actually fought alongside them against the pitiful Horde force? He was somewhat softened by their obvious affection for him, and he considered helping them out, if only for a short while. After all, he would be able to search the Broken Hill, the Stadium, and the Overlook.

He half-feigned reluctance before giving in to their suggestions. "I suppose I have some time."

"Oh, do you really mean that?" A night-elf hunter gushed, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. She and the other two currently campaigning members – a gnome mage and a night-elf warrior whose purple hair was tied in a long, not-so-manly ponytail, - slapped high-fives before turning back sheepishly to 'Lord Lancelot'.

"Well then, let's be off!" Lance smiled nobly, and mounted his dashing steed, which he had taken out of the nearby stables. The purpose of riding the horse was not only to enhance his knightly image, but also to avoid leaving behind his guild members, as they were not yet level seventy's and thus had no gryphons.

The four of them rode to the Broken Hill, where the flag was currently neutral due to apparent inactivity in the area. The hunter took the honor of hoisting the Alliance flag up the flagpole, azure set against a netherworldly sky, and the other two cheered excitedly, being much affected by PVP fever, as was to be expected. Lance spared their celebrations a calm smile, used to the exhilarations of battle.

They stood there, off their mounts in order to be prepared for any retaliation, and mainly whiled away the time for the base to be declared in their possession. The gnome mage made a few potions, his bright green hair all that was visible as he hunched over the reagents. The two night-elves exchanged words of obvious suggestion, with the warrior giving the hunter one of his health potions. Lance noticed with amusement how the warrior's hand lingered on the bottle as he passed it to her, and how her expression turned to innocent confusion, a weak shield over her blatant flirting as she took the potion from him and thanked him profusely, bouncing up and down enthusiastically and in doing so showing off her rather shapely assets.

Finally, the location was established as one of their bases, and the four of them simultaneously mounted up and prepared to move on to the Stadium. That is, before a conspicuously bony figure seemingly dropped from the sky – presumably having dismounted from a windrider – and landed next to them.

Before his guild members had time to so much as blink, Lance barked to them, "Go on, get to Stadium!"

"But he's gonna ta-" The gnome began to whine.

"I'll take care of him." Lance smiled grimly, eyes glinting stone.

His guild members cleared out quickly, riding out in the direction of the Stadium. He could see that they were moving slowly so as to watch their commander's battle. After all, he was practically an idol to them, so a chance to watch him fight was a pretty coveted thing.

"All right, they're watching, so we'll have to duel." Lance said patiently, his face an expression of controlled fury, completely clashing with his voice.

"Right, your precious _guild members_ wouldn't want to find out what a _softy _their old commander is, would they?" Yuren said mockingly, actually angry since he had gone all the way to Outland to tell off (and/or protect) his friend due to the leagues of horde in the area, and then when he finally found him the man was PVPing like some kind of reckless noob.

"Now, now, what's that for?" Lance asked with a brief smile, just happy to see Yuren again, drawing his two-handed sword in a fluid motion.

Yuren likewise hefted his shield and took his sword from the scabbard. "Perhaps if you weren't so busy _showing off_ I would have time to _yell at you_!"

"Sounds like fun, are you sure you can't just yell at me while we duel?" Lance joked, and Yuren's sword flashed out so quickly that the paladin was forced to jump back.

"Don't tempt me." Yuren hissed, eyes burning as he came after Lance again, sword cutting through the air in dazzlingly swift motions, coming close to hitting his friend if it weren't for the dodges that Lance was executing.

Lance went on the offensive and swung the gigantic sword, nearly hitting Yuren except for his well-timed parry. They clashed again and sword slid against shield uselessly, leaving Lance open to attack. He hastily ducked as an extremely sharp sword swung over his head, close enough that it probably had cut his hair slightly shorter.

He took the opportunity to trip Yuren, a cheap move that wasn't even technically allowed in duels. Yuren crashed to the ground, and swore, heavy armor making it difficult for him to get back to his feet.

"Stay on the ground." Lance commanded firmly, gazing at him with a sort of detached triumph.

"_What?_" Yuren gaped. "_What_ did you just-"

Lance placed a solid booted foot on Yuren's chest, pushing back onto the earth. The next moment, the large sword hit the soil between Yuren' right arm and his side, shockingly near to his body, and Yuren was rendered temporarily speechless by whatever insane violent temper had gotten to Lance.

"Stay still." Lance threatened, and then he glanced up, and waved to the guild members who were still some ways away from Broken Hill, watching the battle. After seeing his last strike, the killing blow, they nodded to him, gave him a thumbs-up, and rode off to Stadium, truly this time.

Lance removed the sword from the ground, and extended a hand to help his friend get up. Yuren took it, and yanked him downwards as a petty revenge. But, having discounted the fact that his own armor was quite weighty, he ended up just pulling Lance onto him, since he was unable to easily get to his feet.

Lance grinned. "I had hoped you would come around sooner or later."

Yuren scowled, still hiding intense anger beneath a very temporary cold front. "You do not amuse me."

Lance only smirked mischievously, and wrapped his arms around the surprised undead, squeezing him cheerfully in what could have been called a hug, an attempt to channel as much warmth and love into him as humanly possible. Yuren obviously did not appreciate this gesture, and sought to free himself from the bearlike hold. When he was again unable to free himself, his image of Lance as a rabid bear only intensified, and he gave in, rolling his eyes and letting his body go limp so that Lance would at least not be enjoying his struggling.

But Lance was undeterred, and continued his embrace without sign of becoming bored or tired. After a couple minutes, though, Yuren could stand no more, and he finally decided to point out a fact that had been troubling him for some time.

"What would this look like to your guild members, I wonder?"

Lance stiffened, and he sat up, mostly off of Yuren. "I suppose you're right."

Yuren extricated himself from the remaining hold, and got to his feet wearily, brushing off dirt from his armor. "Now, then, shall we go somewhere else?"

"Naturally." Lance winked cheekily, being in a very good mood since he had the pleasant surprise to suddenly be traveling with Yuren.

"So I can yell at you." Yuren clarified, eyes narrowing.

"As much as you want." Lance said graciously, smile indicating that he really didn't think that Yuren yelling at him would be all that bad. "And then we can snuggle."

"_What." _Yuren asked incredulously, staring at Lance with an entirely disgusted expression. "You have to be fucking _kidding_ me."

"Of course." Lance said, with a mock bow to accompany his truthfulness.

* * *

Felfe sat by the ocean, in clear view, perfectly aware that Kain was probably watching him from some copse of trees nearby. And he told himself he didn't care – he'd make him wait forever if he had to. It just wasn't fair. Why did he have to kill things to become stronger? Why couldn't he just, oh, pick daisies and suddenly feel more strength coursing through his veins?

He sighed pitifully, eyes set on the ocean waves, which came and went in regular intervals. It was calming enough that he managed to fall into a sort of daze, his eyes becoming weary of the repetition. Or maybe he hadn't been blinking, he didn't know. But he jerked awake a moment later to realize that he had drifted off for who knew how long, and he had been leaning sideways sleepily. The stun of waking suddenly caused him to sit up automatically, and his vision swam for a moment before he assessed his location.

With another sigh, this one of relief, he saw that he was still sitting on the beach, and it was still sometime around midday, though the sky was beginning to look slightly more colorful, a hint of the sunset that was sure to come. Unfortunately, the thought of sunsets reminded him of Kain, and killing things, and he consequently looked down at the sand morbidly, a hand going absently to his new headband as he thought disturbed thoughts.

After a good few minutes of such thoughts, though, he figured he ought to do something besides sit on the beach, since he hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast and Kain happened to be in possession of their food (Felfe had only packed a couple day's worth of rations). The obvious solution – because going back to Kain only to beg for food was pathetic – would be to hearth back to Southshore and forget this whole killing business. But there was a taint of finality to that action that Felfe couldn't ignore, an implication he didn't want to pursue. An implication that he wasn't just leaving Stranglethorn, or killing, but also Kain.

His mind tried to stray onto that chain of thoughts and he vehemently tore himself away from it, shoving the idea of using his hearthstone far, far away and into the back of his mind. He veered onto a completely different path, and told himself firmly that he would just walk over to Nesingwary's Expedition and buy something to eat there. Naturally, he had no idea if they sold food there or not, but at the moment it was his only option.

Thoughts of the hearthstone flashed into his mind, and he frowned. That didn't count as an option.

Still frowning, he rose to his feet, brushing off his pants without giving any thought to it. He would have to cut through the jungle to get back to the expedition's campsite by the river. It wouldn't be easy, but he supposed, slightly shamefully, that if he was caught by anything Kain would probably kill it. And that would be horrible, since it would mean he would be more-or-less forced to talk to him, which he wasn't ready to do. He almost feared the idea, as if, in his present mindset, he might say something… horrible…

He stealthed, clearing his mind of the issues, and began to make his way back towards Nesingwary's Expedition. The moment he stepped back onto the grassy floor of the jungle, he stiffened nervously, feeling eyes on him. That in itself wasn't important, since he had known before that Kain was watching him. But he felt more eyes, and he was positive that was bad, because no one should have been able to see him in stealth.

He changed his worried expression for a scowl and convinced himself that it didn't matter, and he would be fine whatever happened. Of course, he didn't believe it, but at least he was trying to comfort himself, even if it was superficially. And anyway, it wasn't liked random people just came after him or anything. Except maybe Liam, but he was…

He was out of jail, probably in some remote place like the Barrens, or… or Stranglethorn Vale…

Felfe paused for a moment to steady himself, still telling himself he was being ridiculous, which he was more assured of now that he had actually wondered if Liam could be chasing him down, in Stranglethorn of all places. In a way it was actually better that he'd thought of the possibility, because it was so far-fetched that it couldn't be true, which was somewhat of a comfort.

He started to move on again, and ignored the rustling of grass under his boots. The jungle was as humid and heated as usual, and it made him nervous, but he tried to focus on avoiding the enemies around him, sometimes going around in odd circles and using diversions in order to not attract their attention.

He was doing extraordinarily well until he came across the trolls. He could tell that he was getting close to the Expedition, but there was a small troll ruin blocking his path, and there were trolls everywhere, pacing around it like they had nothing better to do. Which they didn't.

Felfe glanced left and right, wondering which path to take. Each was dangerous – trolls guarded each direction, and not only that, but they were moving targets, and he couldn't just walk past them if he didn't know which way they would turn next. The only real idea he had was to distract them with something, although they were definitely higher level than him. It could still work, though.

He crept forward cautiously, his eyes targeting a particularly trollish troll. Was that a bone in its hair? He was the one temporarily distracted, and if he hadn't hastily backed up, it would have come close enough to see him.

Restraining a sigh of relief that would have given him away, Felfe reached into a pocket and took out a shiny white ball, which was a standard distraction that rogues used, besides the obvious other items, which were generally shiny pieces of metal or tinfoil, anything that reflected light or sparkled.

He steadied his arm, took aim, and threw it right over the troll's ugly head. The monstrous humanoid turned swiftly to peer in the direction that the ball had flown – rather silly, since it should have been looking at where the ball had _come from_, since that was where the attacker would be – and it was thoroughly distracted. Felfe moved forward immediately, abandoning care in order to get far past the troll before the distraction became ineffective.

He had barely passed the troll woman when another a male, with tribal markings slashed across its face in white paint, came into his view. He hadn't known there would be another so close by, and he almost didn't have time to move out of the way. In fact, he didn't, and as he began to edge away from the troll in panic, it sniffed the air suspiciously.

Holding his breath like it was the last thing he would ever do, Felfe felt himself back up, and his back hit a stone wall. Gulp.

The troll gave a guttural noise, and sniffed around some more. It was too close now – no matter what way Felfe moved, it would just put him in more jeopardy. So he stayed still, and hoped against his horrible luck that the troll would abandon the search. But as usual, it was not so.

The troll inched closer, stale breath mincing the air. His sharp eyes then settled on the shadowy form flattening itself against the wall of the ruin. Sharp eyes narrowed. Nasty, tribal shout. Frightening grin.

Felfe, terrified, could only try vainly to fight back as he was clubbed by the huge troll man. As he blacked out, he resolved to start using swords instead of daggers, because they hadn't really been much use against a mace the size of his torso.

* * *

Felfe came to with a realization that he was the centerpiece of the troll ruin, tied to a stake between two carved jade statues of tigers, naked except for a sort of tribal kilt that went to his knees. The place was lit by blotches of sunset colored light from the places where the sky showed through from between tree leaves, making him wonder how long the things were waiting to eat him. He eyed the trolls, obviously standing on guard around him, with barely restrained terror, and tried unsuccessfully to free himself from his bonds. They were tied well, extremely well, and were made of a harsh ropelike material that grated on his skin painfully.

He gave up on that approach as he felt his skin bruising, and flinched when he noticed one of the trolls look him over hungrily, licking its fleshy lips with a great display of enthusiasm. Felfe was not impressed, in fact he would have rather been anywhere else at that moment, even possibly with Liam. At least Liam wasn't actually going to kill him. Or put him in a stewpot.

He wondered where the stewpot thought had come from, and it came to his attention that it might have to do with what he was sensing the trolls were going to do with him. So he glanced around with searching eyes this time, and his gaze settled upon a blackened and rather large cauldron that was sitting over a spitting fire. Oh, no… why did it always have to be a stewpot? Why couldn't they have just settled for roasting him on the stake or something?

Apparently they heard his mental plea, because as soon as the leader returned – it seemed like the troll held some sort of position, anyway – they began to uproot the stake he was tied to. Felfe yelped as they tightened the ropes to the point that they cut into his wrists, and he was subjected to another stun when they then lifted up the stake, with one troll taking each end of it.

Facing the ground, which soon became the inside of the cookpot, Felfe felt cold sweat, despite the warmth, beading on his face. The trolls were still holding the stake he was tied to, and he wondered if they were just going to kill him with the tension, or if they were going to let him down and just get it on with. He then wondered, with no small amount of panic, whether they would kill him first and _then _cook him, or the other way around. He wasn't sure which he would have liked better, given a choice.

His fears sharpened as a dagger cut through his bonds, and one of the trolls seized his wrists, preventing him from moving when they let him down onto the ground beside the cookpot. Felfe looked up at his captor, eyes wide, and the troll chuckled at him. It would have been oddly comforting if there hadn't been drool seeping from the thing's mouth. Which it then remedied by licking its lips in a predatory fashion.

Felfe hastily looked away, and found that all the other trolls in the vicinity, at least twenty of them, were surrounding him and the cookpot. He was positive then that he felt all the blood drain from his face, and he couldn't help but think that this was the end. In all the times he had thought about dying – which was quite a bit, since he came close to it so often – he had never imagined this. Anything would have been better than this.

He closed his eyes, hearing all the tribal yells and hungry cries of the trolls surrounding him. He hoped against hope that he wouldn't be able to feel it when they slit his throat, and he shuddered imagining the ghost of the feeling. He abruptly wondered what would happen then, after he died. Would he become a ghost, to wander the land forever, unseen by all? Or would he just vanish off the face of the World?

The sound of steel on steel and the war-cries of a couple dozen trolls startled him out of his once again morbid thoughts, and he heard the squelch of something being run through – yes, it was a peculiar sound, one that he was able to identify easily – and then the screams of several more trolls. His eyes sought the attacker, but he could see no one beyond the tall shapes of fifteen or so trolls a few feet away from him. The one holding him captive tightened his grip, and Felfe whimpered without meaning to.

It came to him then that his savior was probably Kain, since that was the way things usually went. But then he caught a brief glimpse of the attacker through the moving trolls, and was surprised to find that it was not one, but two saviors, and neither one had Kain's outline, which of course Felfe was very familiar with.

The crowd of trolls thinned out, and soon two figures stood before him with concerned expressions. Well, one concerned and the other extremely pissed. The pissed one wasted no time in going at the last troll in the ruin, the one that held Felfe captive, and hacked its head off with his blood-spattered sword.

"How do you even _manage _to get yourself into this much trouble?" Yuren growled as Lance untied the ropes and placed healing hands to the blood and bruises.

Felfe winced as the tingling feeling startled him, and then he really registered what had happened, and began to remember that he was still alive, and that it was because of his two friends, who he had been avoiding for so long because of a stupid misunderstanding that really had posed no actual harm to anyone involved and –

He did the only thing he was capable of doing at the time. He burst into horrified tears, and thanked both of them wholeheartedly between sobs. He couldn't really see either of them through his gratuitous crying, but he still latched onto Lance as best he could, seeing as Yuren would have probably hurt him if he tried, recent rescue or no recent rescue.

"Felfe, what are you doing out here by yourself?" Lance asked carefully, entirely mystified, awkwardly patting the elf on the back. Wasn't Kain always stalking – er, protecting – his night-elf? What in the world was going on?

"The little night-elf is _lost_, isn't he?" Yuren scowled, but his lips turned up into a small smile before he glanced away so his face couldn't be seen.

"Y-yes. No!" Felfe contradicted himself, and then sobbed again. "I… I was j-just going to N… N… Nesingwary's."

"Well, it's not that far away… how did you get yourself captured like that?" Lance hesitated before bringing up the no doubt painful subject.

"Um… well…" Felfe sniffed, trying to stop his tears from flowing at the same time. "I was trying to get around the trolls… and one of them came out of nowhere and… and…"

"All right, we get it, we get it!" Yuren shook his head in exasperation, and then, for some reason unknown to the rest of mankind, pulled Felfe off Lance and slapped a bony hand down on the night-elf's shoulder in what could have been deemed a comforting way. "Now where the _hell_ is Kain?"

Felfe's tears stopped for a moment and he paled. His hand, halfway to his face in the act of wiping his eyes, froze. "I…"

"Right, you're lost. We've established that." Yuren nodded impatiently. "So you don't know where he is."

"N-no, that's not what-" Felfe bit his lip to stop the panic of incoming tears at the mention of the other subject. "I… kind of… got angry at him." He looked up at Yuren with pleading eyes, as if to beg for forgiveness.

Yuren's expression went blank as he processed the strange news, and he immediately jumped to conclusions, at which point he said in horror, "You _left _him!?"

"What? No! Not really, I just… walked away." Felfe defended, anxious from the accusation that hit too close to his earlier thoughts.

"How long ago." Yuren asked, but it sounded more like a command, and his undead eyes glowed ominously.

"This morning," Felfe muttered, suddenly feeling like a child before an interrogation.

Yuren sighed heavily, eyes closing for a brief moment. "We'd better go find him."

"What's wrong?" Lance asked, worried, since by Yuren's expression this was a matter of much importance. Not a 'Oh darn, our priest is shadow-specced' but more of a 'Oh hell, is this even a priest?'.

"We'll find out soon enough." Yuren murmured, so that only Lance could hear. Unfortunately, he forgot that Felfe was an elf, so Felfe heard as well, making his whisper completely unnecessary.

"What's going on?" Felfe asked quickly, following the other two as they began walking out of the ruins.

Yuren paused a bare few seconds to turn and say, "Blood-elves and their mood swings."

"You mean Kain? What are you-" Felfe was cut off, then, as Lance placed a hand on his shoulder.

Fortunately, Lance did, in fact, understand the dilemma after Yuren's few indicative words, and he also had enough intellect to realize that telling Felfe that Kain was probably passed out on the beach somewhere was a bad idea. "Everything is fine."

Felfe, of course, wasn't convinced, but he only looked down at the ground with an expression of hesitation. And then he saw his bare feet, and looked back up at Lance.

Lance looked back, confusion gracing his face at the suddenly embarrassed pink that Felfe's face had melted into. "Felfe?"

Yuren, who had already stalked ahead of them a good ways, turned and shouted something at them that they didn't hear but had a good enough idea of its meaning anyhow.

"Do you… have any spare clothes?" Felfe asked quietly, folding his arms uncomfortably as the realization that he had been wearing only a large kilt for the past hour set in.

Lance glanced at the conspicuous kilt, and he understood. "Not really. We can probably get you something off a tiger, though."

Felfe stiffened, and then seemed to give up on something. "… Or a troll…"

Lance nodded slowly, agreeing though confused. "Yes. Or a troll."

Yuren, by now, had stalked all the way back to them, growling. "Am I _missing out_ on anything?"

"Not at all. Do you have any spare equipment?" Lance went smoothly to the topic at hand, though he knew Yuren had no idea what he was talking about.

"What? No! Why are you even…" His eyes settled on Felfe, and he sighed. "Ah, yes, that."

"We can just go kill a few tigers and get something." Lance suggested, and Yuren rolled his eyes, neither of them noticing Felfe's fidgeting at the mention of killing tigers.

Yuren gave Lance a look that clearly said, 'And I thought you weren't a _complete _idiot.' "And I thought you weren't a _complete _idiot."

Lance shot him a righteously hurt look, saying, "And what gave you those thoughts?"

Yuren only narrowed his eyes, and raised a skeletal hand to point at the pile of dead trolls not three yards from their location. Felfe gave a noise of recognition, and Lance looked abashedly elsewhere, giving Felfe a friendly nudge towards the bodies so he could find something to wear.

"Don't take all day." Yuren cautioned, turning around to scan the jungle in the vain hope that he might see Kain at any moment. After all, he had witnessed his share of Kain's depressive mood swings and suicidal phases, and he seriously doubted that the man could hold up well after being left by someone as naïve and non-judgmental as Felfe.

In less than a minute Felfe had found a pair of leather pants and an ivycloth robe, a color of green that blended in with the jungle and had nice long sleeves. Unfortunately it was a size or two too big for him, and the shoulders were especially loose, and he had to push one back up after it fell off his shoulder. But it was still the best he could find of anything.

Yuren seemed more-or-less pleased with the short amount of time the elf had taken, by which meaning that he only growled and complained about the necessity of the task at hand, and didn't do any yelling. He was entirely focused as they began their search, walking ahead of them and casting a wary eye about the jungle.

Presently the undead stopped and, with an idea, asked Felfe, "What happened after you walked away?"

They kept walking as Felfe answered, though the elf had initially stopped in his tracks and had to run a few paces to catch up. "W-well, I went out to the beach, and I sat there for a while. I might have fallen asleep… and then-"

"You fell asleep? For how long?" Yuren questioned hurriedly, quickening his pace and veering so that their path now lead to the nearby coast.

"I don't know, at least a couple hours, it was starting to get to sunset when I woke up." Felfe replied, trying to be helpful in some way, but still not understanding exactly what was the matter and why Yuren was so worked up about him sleeping on the beach.

"Damn." Yuren muttered, and then inquired again, "And then what?"

"Then I went back into the jungle." Felfe started, "And the trolls-"

"Yes, yes, we _know _that part." Yuren hissed, looking like he was trying to push back panic. "Lance, he's probably on the beach somewhere."

Felfe glanced at Lance at this seemingly random timing in addressing the other man. But Lance knew what was implied. 'Probably on the beach somewhere' translated vaguely to 'on the beach, passed out, and possibly injured or worse by his own doing'. The way Yuren said it, something of an undercurrent in his voice, told Lance that this had happened more than once before.

"Why do you think he's on the beach?" Felfe asked, curious and terribly naïve.

Yuren shot Lance a meaningful look, horror and sympathy and weariness. Lance, made oddly solemn by the realization that Felfe really had no idea what any of their seriousness was about, gave Felfe a comforting look as they kept walking towards their destination.

"Well… we just figured maybe he fell asleep the same time you did, and… maybe he was more tired than you were." Lance lied convincingly enough, and Felfe seemed to mostly accept it. But the elf still wondered at the tenseness in the air around the other two, and the way Yuren's hand suddenly clenched with so much force that bone scraped against bone.

* * *

"I hurt all over…" Silya muttered unabashedly, letting her teacher's guiding hands help her lie down on the cloaked ground. But the ground was still stone under the cloak. Uncomfortable stone. And it was painful to her weakened body, as if she was being affected by a constant DoT.

Alyane whispered something that sounded comforting enough, though Silya couldn't make out the words, and then a canteen of moonberry juice was pressed to her lips gently, and she drank until the vessel was lifted again.

"I have a potion for you now." Alyane spoke after a few moments, watching the pale, fragile blonde open her eyes slightly at the words. "A dreamless-sleep potion. It will put you in a state of healing sleep for 12 hours."

"How…?" Silya asked, curious about Alyane's methods of obtaining the object, which was normally crafted by an alchemist.

"Shhh. Rest now." Alyane advised, a hand lifting Silya into a half-sitting position. Her other hand scavenged in a violet pouch and withdrew a potion, a dark blue-green color.

Silya opened her mouth willingly as the container was placed at her lips, and she tasted an odd flavor, something of spinach and a faint hint of moonberry. It was, in fact, a very nasty taste, but she accepted it because it was her last hope of stopping the nightmares. Aside from subjecting herself to the attacks of basilisks, which she had indeed contemplated.

"Thanks." The blonde elf murmured, and yawned. She felt herself sink back onto cloaked stone, and the softness of Alyane's lips pressed against her forehead briefly as she drifted off to sleep, at last.

* * *

The warlock mumbled a few words of incantation from the book, _Necromancy and You_, held in his left hand, and a nearby goblin crumpled to the ground. He ran thin fingers through his long, shining black hair, and sighed. The DoT was getting the best of him, as always.

He decided that the most logical plan of action would be to make for the beach, as it was a good spot to be unnoticed and undisturbed, and he possessed a quest or two for the area. With that figured out, he turned and strode back to the path, the route confirmed in his mind.

The weakness persisted as he walked, and soon he stopped in his tracks, frowned slightly, and spun to confront his voidwalker, whose dark eyes might have held some sort of dread if the thing even had emotions. With a flourish of a hand motion, he sacrificed it, and began walking again, a hand going to his forehead in an attempt to assuage the throbbing pain within.

The effects of the sacrifice started to become apparent as he gained health slowly, although the irritating DoT was still there, causing his health to sink and rise all over the place, as if each force was battling the other for control of his bodily wellness. It might have very well been like that, if he thought about it.

The beach looked dismal for some reason, perhaps because, by the time he reached it, his voidwalker's sacrificial gift had worn off, and now his headache was pounding with a ferocity that never ceased to amaze him. But at least he had somewhere to rest for a while. Maybe he would eat dinner. It was getting rather late.

As he moved along the sandy expanse, watching disinterestedly the various palms and rocks go by, he caught sight of something that made him seriously reconsider the state of his sanity. It looked like an elf. An elf with black hair and gold armor. Was that Judgment armor? Odd, a high-level horde lying on a beach like that.

Of course, in the jungle he would have just walked by it, since the daily warring that went on, especially near the Gurubashi arena, warranted for no small number of deaths, and sparred no one – there would always be a higher level, or a larger number for the opponent. No one was really 'safe' in Stranglethorn.

But really, the beach? What would a blood-elf be doing on a beach?

His mental rant was cut short as he approached the body, and was able to examine it more clearly. It was just like he had thought, a seventy blood-elf male with black hair and pale skin, equipped with Judgment armor and lying there like he had just been ganked. But something was wrong with the picture. For one thing, the man shouldn't have been breathing if he was dead. And he was definitely breathing.

The warlock raised an eyebrow, curious at what sort of elf this was, to sleep in the middle of the Stranglethorn coast. Did he not realize how much danger he was in? Well, not an inordinate amount, for PVP territory, but still.

"Sir, it is advisable that you refrain from sleeping in such a dangerous area." The warlock voiced boredly, tone politely respectful, as the elf was clearly of a much higher level than he was.

When the elf didn't stir, the warlock figured he ought to help him, and perhaps, since the elf was a paladin, he might be able to cure the abominable DoT that was currently splitting his head open.

"Ahem." The warlock coughed loudly. The elf didn't move, so he then bent down and shook him none-too-gently.

A groan came from the stirring elf, who, as he gained a hold on his surroundings, sat up, rubbing his eyes tiredly before remembering his dignity, as well as noticing the rather strange-looking warlock standing in front of him.

"It is nice to meet you, too." The warlock greeted apathetically. "I am Lucifer."

The elf, looking slightly confused, rose to his feet gracefully and bowed. "I am Kain, leader of the Horde. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

The warlock paused, having been about to turn around and leave, and his expression became one of neutral surprise. "I did not expect such an important person such as yourself. If I set aside my manners, I might ask you what you were doing sleeping on the beach here."

Kain was about to answer, but something that had been on his mind had to surface. "Are you an undead?" After all, although the warlock had extremely white skin and a slender, bordering on skeletal frame, he appeared to be still human, with black eyes and clean, well-cared for black hair. He was rather strikingly handsome, in a vampirish way.

Lucifer frowned, as if he had been asked this question many times before, and usually didn't answer, but since this was the leader of the Horde… "I am, in fact, half undead."

Kain blinked, mind slowly trying to make sense of the sentence. "Half… undead? Is that possible?"

"It shouldn't be." Lucifer said, a touch of scorn in his voice, before beginning a thought-out explanation. "My body is continually trying to see to it that I become fully undead, and I have a constant DoT sucking at my life force to accomplish that goal. I was actually wondering if you could help me with that."

"By the Sunwell…" Kain muttered, and then got hold of himself, and straightened up. "I've never heard of something like that, but I can try to cure it."

"Many have, none have succeeded." Lucifer remarked wistfully. "I have learned to live around it."

Kain placed a gloved hand quietly on the half-undead's shoulder, and focused his energies, searching for damages. Immediately he encountered a great, throbbing mass of dark material that coursed through the undead's veins, and the strength of it was so immense that he couldn't help stumbling back a step, severing his link with the plague-like curse.

"No luck, I suppose?" Lucifer scowled, sharp-featured face contorting for a moment. "I should have expected that."

Kain pretended to be brushing sand from his back, but really he wanted to get the disgusting feeling off his hand, from the ridiculously malevolent DoT lurking inside the half-undead. "You have an incurable DoT. I've never heard of such a thing." And he tried to sound neutral and semi-interested.

"Neither have I, and believe me, I have searched for cures." Lucifer said sourly. "Well, I have occupied this patch of air for far too long, so I shall be going. I would not want to spread this cursed plague elsewhere, if that is even possible."

"I wish you luck." Kain said sincerely, still stunned and mildly impressed that a somewhat low-level warlock was carrying around a curse of that magnitude. If all that power was harnessed and unleashed, in the warlock's own hands… It would spell a great deal of trouble for both factions, seeing as the man was half-Alliance and half-Horde.

As Lucifer faded in the distance, Kain began to look around, something nagging at him irrepressibly. What had he been doing asleep? And on the beaches of Stranglethorn? He glanced at the ocean and caught a short memory of wading into the waters with Felfe. Ah. Felfe.

… Felfe!

He was immediately filled with fear and masculine urges to protect the other elf, enhanced by his panic-stricken realization that Felfe was nowhere in sight, and probably, if he was 'lucky', nowhere in the vicinity.

Various curses streamed through his mind as he became increasingly agitated, and he began heading for the jungle, no particular path or direction in mind, searching frantically and without strategy for the night-elf who always ended up in bad situations.

* * *

"What's wrong?" Felfe asked, for the hundredth time since they had started along the beach to look for Kain.

"I _said,_ 'we'll see.'" Yuren growled, his nerves frayed after a half hour of searching. Yes, the Stranglethorn coast was expansive, but they should have at least caught sight of him by now if he was anywhere on the beach. And they were nearing the end of the area where Felfe said he had fallen asleep. If they could even count on Felfe's recollection to be correct.

Felfe fell silent once again, and, in a desperate gesture, tugged on Lance's sleeve, forcing the paladin to look his in the eyes as they followed the undead warrior across the beach. "Lance…?"

Lance sighed, and felt obligated to give Felfe some sort of answer. And Felfe had been asking for a very long time. "Well…"

Yuren looked back over his shoulder corrosively.

"Well," Lance continued boldly, ignoring the warning sound that came from Yuren. "Blood-elves can be very sensitive sometimes."

"You already said that…" Felfe whispered, the importance of the situation weighing on him though he had no idea what it was about.

"Yuren reckons that…" Another noise from Yuren interrupted Lance, but he kept talking after it, feeling that Felfe had more of a right to know than anyone. "Kain might have gone into one of his depressive states."

"_Oh._" Felfe said with recognition, having seen Kain in what he thought was a 'depressive state', such as the time when his friend had been crying by the lake, spilling his entire secret past in dramatic and nicely timed lines. "Why are you so worried, then?"

Yuren groaned and at last gave in, not bothering to turn around and deliver the words to Felfe's face. "Listen, sometimes he gets in bad shape, and hurts himself. Don't ask me, I don't see the point of it any more than you do."

Lance had to seize Felfe's wrist to pull him along when the elf stopped walking abruptly, with a horror-filled expression.

"You don't mean… like the thing with Kael?" Felfe squeaked. "Is this like-"

"I'd thought you would have known by now how entirely _delicate _Kain is when it comes to you, but I suppose that's just _another _thing you don't catch onto." Yuren muttered, the words still reaching Felfe.

Felfe paled as the words sank in, and he realized that he really shouldn't have walked away. How was Kain to know that he was just upset, and needed time to settle himself? He probably thought that the whole thing was about him, and being the dramatist that he was, maybe…

"On the bright side," Yuren added morbidly, "We have a paladin with us."

Lance, not sure he was leaping the right assumption, asked, "You mean…"

"I _mean_," Yuren began, with an iron grip on his fears, "Be ready with that resurrection." After all, if the spirit had left the body already…

At this point, Felfe became something of a wreck and kept insisting that it was all his fault (to which Yuren pointed out that, if they were delayed in finding Kain because of his little show of tears, it would be his fault again) until Lance was forced to more-or-less drag the poor night-elf along, and he couldn't bear to look at the terrified, glowing eyes and the trembling form beside him.

"He'll be okay, right?" Felfe's voice wavered, still shaky from his recent sobbing. "Right?"

Lance hesitated. "Of… course."

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

**Reviewers: **I'm going to try to do a chapter a day (or seven chapters) during next week (Spring Break for me). Let's see if I meet the challenge.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own WoW kthxbai. I don't even own a mic. But I do own my 'creations.' Especially Felfe, Kain, Lance, Yuren, and Guanji. And also Liam, hehehe. And Alyane, and Silya, and Temarr, and… you get the idea. I own everyone. I also own the MORMRIS.

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

Kain paused, turned, surveying both directions briefly before choosing a route farther down the beach, heading in the general direction of Nesingwary's. There was a good chance Felfe had gone that way in some vain effort to reach the camp. Why under the Sunwell had he fallen asleep at such an inopportune time? His error, though he was trying not to think about it, could be an irreparable one.

Gritting his teeth and closing his eyes for a moment, he sighed, letting out a small amount of panic. The next instant he was searching again, scanning the horizon everywhere as he ran across the beach, keeping himself to a moderate pace to be able to better see the area before him in detail. If Felfe had gone into the jungle…

He had warned him, hadn't he? It seemed like he must have, but with his mind focused on more important problems, he couldn't recall if he had or hadn't. Everything was hazy, covered by a thin layer of dust in his mind. Everything except for his pursuit of Felfe, which was all that mattered.

His hand twitched to the hilt of his sword as he caught movement, but it was just a troll native in the distance. His expression melted into horrified worry, wondering if Felfe had ended up in a troll's stewpot. Damn it! He hadn't the time or the emotional capacity to be worrying about Felfe being… cue cringe.

After a few more minutes, he thought he had to be nearing the part of the jungle that he could enter to take a direct path to Nesingwary's. Felfe would have gone that way if anything, mostly because it was easy to navigate such a direct path without having to take out a map often, and Felfe would probably be stealthing past the beasts of the jungle and therefore wouldn't want to have to look at his map.

… But of course, Kain didn't know that. It was just a gut feeling, an instinct that told him that he had to be close. Such an instinct had always guided him in matters of this kind of importance, and it had never let him down. It was part of how he always seemed to be in the right place at the right time. Except for this time. All because he had fallen asleep on the beach. It hadn't been his intention, but watching Felfe drift off into the world of dreams had made him realize his own weariness, and before he knew it…

Why was he making excuses to himself? It wouldn't matter. Not if he could find Felfe alive and well. But if not… if not, he didn't want to think of what his decisions might lead him to. It had been a bad idea to come here, to Stranglethorn, the most dangerous zone for mid-levels. Would his luck cancel out Felfe's, or would the continual bad luck of the hapless night-elf be too much this time?

He saw it, then. A large, unidentifiable shape in the distance, and his heart missed a beat, and when it started again the rhythm was disjointed and nonsensical. The large shape began to materialize and he could make out that there were three figures in all. Could it be…?

His face felt like it was slowly shedding a mask of terror to reveal fleeting feelings always suppressed.

They had been running along the beach, Felfe still trembling, trying to quiet himself, when they saw it. A conspicuous figure running along the beach, clad in what could have been Judgment armor. Could it be…?

* * *

Felfe flew forward, no longer struggling to keep up while sobs racked his body. His face cleared as silvery hair whipped around his shoulders and streamed behind him, and he felt himself shining somehow, as if the very effect of seeing that figure approaching had caused him to forget his weariness and his not-yet-dried tears, those trails of sorrow down his face.

"Felfe!" A choked voice yelled, and Kain ran faster if possible, flying forward in the same, somehow divine inspiration.

They met with such movement, and Kain barely halted before he seized Felfe in a crushing hug and spun him around. Tears left Felfe's bright eyes and speckled Kain's tabard. Felfe gripped Kain with as much strength as he was being held, and they both remained in the iron lock as Felfe sobbed into Kain's chest, Kain whispering heated and distressed concern in Felfe's ears that turned into comforting words after only a few moments.

Without a word, Felfe looked up from his astounded tears and Kain, face still close from the whispers, leaned in and their lips met softly, stifling further crying. The kiss was tainted by salt, the result of tears that ran too close to the night-elf's mouth. Kain ignored it and withdrew to kiss Felfe's face all over, wherever tears had ran, ending with light kisses on both delicate eyelids as Felfe closed his eyes.

"I love you." Kain said desperately, voice hoarse but somehow reveling in his words.

Felfe opened his eyes at this, watching Kain's open face, unconcealing of anything. Fear was most prominent in his expression, tinged with relief and the new emotion of what had to be love.

Felfe's hands clutched Kain's tabard as he stood on his toes to whisper, automatically but with full realization of what he was doing. "I-I… I love you, Kain."

He tried to linger there, because Kain couldn't see his awkward face, but Kain took his hands in his and pulled him back down and in doing so savored his expression, the innocent night-elf's face possessing a newfound emotion with such vitality. It wasn't new, this emotion, but magnified. It had always been there, in some way or another, even in the earliest days.

Kain let a delicate hand pause on Felfe's face in the act of drying tears, and he leaned down again to capture those wonderful lips in his, carefully at first but growing more confident at Felfe's attempts to reciprocate at last.

The moment seemed to last forever, and in a perfect world this would have been their happy ending, their perfect lives coexisting and becoming one, meeting understanding by the darkening sky filled with stars like sprinkles in on blue velvet.

But the moment couldn't last forever, and it didn't, because they were not the only ones there, and Yuren and Lancelot, however much the latter might have advocated it, did not take advantage of the situation to pursue a make-out session of their own.

"Good grief." Yuren muttered, great relief in his voice, more than he would usually express in an entire year. It was a quiet sound, but loud enough that it broke Felfe and Kain out of their glass reverie.

"Yuren? … Lance?" Kain asked, surprised. He had forgotten the existence of the other two since setting eyes on Felfe running towards him along the beach. "How…?"

"We were worried about you both, so we-" Lance began, but Yuren cut him off.

"Doesn't matter. I want to hear what splendid reason _you _have for making me drag myself _all_ the way out here, not to mention stopping to rescue a certain _night-elf_ from a _troll gang_, only to find out that _you've_ probably descended into another of your _moods _and worrying myself to _death_-" He stopped himself, then, and turned around so that his cape was mostly all that showed.

Lance attempted to sneak a look at Yuren's face and was rewarded with the sight of undead tears, few but significant, and then a huge gauntleted fist entered his vision and he was forced to duck and get himself away from the vitriolic and extremely emotional warrior.

"A troll gang?" Kain's mouth dried out suddenly, and he looked down at Felfe to find the elf beginning to pale, even in the comfort of his arms again. "You…?"

Felfe nodded ashamedly.

"Was there a cookpot?" The blood-elf asked very, very quietly. "There was, wasn't there."

Felfe nodded, a slight shudder coursing through him, which Kain felt and responded to by holding him tighter. "If Yuren and Lance hadn't shown up."

Kain glanced back at the two, who had now lapsed into a semi-argument that it seemed Lance was, for once, winning. And then Lance was clearly winning, because he enveloped Yuren in a bear hug, proving his likeness to a bear, if not a rabid one just yet.

"So," Kain raised his voice to get their attention, and Lance forcefully turned a humiliated Yuren around in his arms to listen to Kain's address. "I owe you two a great deal, don't I?"

Yuren rolled his undead eyes. "Whatever. Just _another _favor you'll repay someday."

"Don't worry about it," Lance said placidly, trying to keep hold of Yuren, who had begun to protest the entrapment of the viselike embrace. "That's what friends are for."

The night sky winked down at them in empathy, seeing the scene spread across the beach that evening and laying upon it a celestial blessing incomprehensible to all involved, noticed only by the appearance of the full moon, perfect and shining, a reminder of something important too easily defined to be named with the full impact of its meaning.

* * *

The story continues in _That's What Friends Are For_, which will be uploaded immediately.


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